#and now I’m pissed at myself. alls well I’m fine but like.

[sloaneispunk]

“once smitten”

frontman!in-ho x you

what if in-ho falls for gi-hun’s sister in the games?

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ༊· ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

“excuse me, i-” in-ho tried to introduce himself.

“ah, you’re so stupid! how could you take an invitation from a stranger?!” gi-hun scolded you as you stood like a little kid before him, head down with your hands behind your back.

“oh, yes, how can we help you?” jung-bae chuckled awkwardly, turning to face in-ho.

“i was just wondering if i could join your team, i saw that-”

“you’re saying that to me?! you came voluntarily too, again!” you shouted back at your brother, cutting in-ho off again as the team tried to de-escalate the situation.

“give me one moment.” jung-bae excused him, pulling you aside, away from gi-hun to calm down.

“i’m sorry.” apologised gi-hun as he turned his attention towards in-ho, looking him up and down once. “i’m gi-hun, that’s my sister y/n.” he said, pointing to you as you slumped onto the ground.

“ah, i must have caught you guys at a bad time.” in-ho sniggered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“no, no. everything’s fine here, you’re welcomed to join us.”

in-ho gave him a grateful smile, walking towards you, brushing skimmed past gi-hun.

“hi, you’re y/n? i’m assuming?”

you nodded, “you had to ask my brother for permission to join?” you jokingly said.

in-ho took a seat on the floor beside you. “what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“gi-hun didn’t come home for a year after his first game. went on like a lunatic about it when he did come home. then, he was gone, next thing i knew i was ‘happily reunited’ with him again here.”

of course in-ho had already knew all that, but it was part of his ruse to get closer to gi-hun.

“but whatever, it doesn’t matter anyway. i can take care of myself, i don’t need him.” you scoffed, arms crossed.

in-ho couldn’t help but grin at the sight, you were sulking in a corner with him, about the one thing that was possibly the least dangerous in the whole game.

“well, looks like i’m gonna be here for a while so, you know where to find me if you need me.” in-ho said, nudging your arm.

you giggled. “thanks, i didn’t catch your name.”

“young-il.”

“young-il…” you tried it on your lips, it sounded right.

“i’ll see you around.” he winked before he got up, walking off to join the rest of the team.

after that interaction, you couldn’t seem to get him off your mind. somehow, someway, it always went back to in-ho. when you and him were apart, you keeping away from gi-hun, you would sneak glances at him. sometimes, he would even already be staring, making you a blushing mess as you tried to cover it up by looking elsewhere.

after the second game of ‘six-legged pentathlon’, you were sat on your bed with the team surrounding you, all eating the food they had given you.

at that point, gi-hun was fuming. you couldn’t deny that you haven’t been pissing him off but who was he to say anything? afterall, he was the one that abandoned you for this stupid game.

“y/n, finish your food.” gi-hun told you sternly when you left the remainders aside.

“i’m not hungry.” you said monotonously, not meeting his eyes.

“you’re not going to have energy to play the next game if you don’t.” he scolded, raising his voice.

“who cares?”

“y/n. finish it now.”

“or what? you’re gonna disappear again? are you gonna leave me again?” you retaliated, sneering when he didn’t reply.

suddenly, he shot up, grabbing you by the collad as he slammed you into the wall. you screamed, but was silenced when your head came into contact with the rough surface.

“enough, gi-hun!” you heared in-ho yell, “put her down!”

then, you were being dropped to the ground. in-ho ran towards you, grabbing a hold of you before you could fall.

“are you okay?” he asked, brushing your hair aside to see your face.

but you couldn’t reply. you could only look at the ground, tears hitting the floor underneath you.

in-ho couldn’t be assed about anything else at that moment, he gently escorted you to the exit which was heavily guarded. without a word, the guards opened the door, letting you and him both leave without question. maybe if he was in the right mind, he would have been more careful about blowing his cover, but luckily for you, he wasn’t.

in-ho walked you to the bathroom, effortlessly lifting you onto the sink. he took a moment looking at your pitiful form, he felt his heart break.

“can you look at me?” he whispered, waiting for permission before he lifting your chin with his fingers. “let me see your pretty face.”

as you locked eyes with him, you could feel the embarrassment bubbling in your stomach. you were so weak, so vulnerable now before him. “young-il…” you managed to choke out.

he didn’t need anything else, he knew exactly what you needed at that moment, leaning forward to pull you into his embrace. the second you had your head on his shoulder, you sobbed. no one, not even you, knew if he was because you were scared, or angry, or hurt, but he was everything you could feel at that moment and nothing else mattered.

a few minutes passed, when you eventually calmed down and pulled away, you let out a laugh. in-ho was confused, did he do something wrong?

“thank you, young-il.” you smiled sadly at the man before you.

internally, he let out a sigh of relief. “are you feeling better?”

you nodded. you lifted your hand, touching the back of your head, causing you to wince in pain. “shit.” you cursed under your breath as you looked at your hand, a small trace on blood left on it.

“c’mere.” in-ho instructed, inspecting your wound. “it’s okay, i think it’s just a graze.”

he helped you clean your wound, taking care of you like you were his own treasured item, each movement acted out with upmost care.

“he’s not always like that.” you broke the silence as he hummed. “i don’t know what this place has turned him into.”

but in-ho didn’t care, you had just given him another reason to carry out his plan against gi-hun.

when the two of you headed back to the room, gi-hun ran to you.

“i think you should leave her alone from now on.” in-ho stepped in when he got too close for his liking.

“but y/n-”

“fuck off.” maybe it was a little more than personal now, but either way, he didn’t like the idea of gi-hun coming close to you again.

that night, you slept with in-ho by your side, you cuddled up to his side as he sat still on the bed, careful not to move. in-ho didn’t sleep for the whole night, he was too busy admiring your sleeping form and savouring the feeling of you cuddled up next to him. it made him wonder if this could be what it could be like outside the games.

maybe the you and him would have an apartment, maybe even a dog. it would be the epitome of a perfect life. everynight after work he would come home to you, being welcomed by your hugs and kisses. he smiled hard even just from the thought of it.

much often, when his thoughts had gotten the better of him, he would place a kiss on your forehead or draw cute little patterns on your arm.

y/n, y/n, y/n, what were you doing to him?

[summer-fire]

Closest I’ve ever gotten to road rage.

[bibleofficial]

so private prescriptions aren’t covered in wales … lame but when i found that out picking up the antipsychotics & was 😶 ‘like oh my god how much is is going to be like my regular script in the states is 300$ w/o insurance’ & it was 12£ for 2 mo. ok. werk.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“When I said I owed you,” you whisper and look over your shoulder. 

“Talk as quiet as you want, he’s got super hearing. Can’t even squeak out a silent but deadly with this guy,” Sam chuckles. 

“Wow, that’s gross,” you crinkle your nose. 

“I can be a nasty boy.” 

“Not better,” you give him an apprehensive look as you face him. “I saw him on the news.” 

“Hey, I was there too,” Sam chirps. 

“I know that but...” 

“He got a bit trigger happy. We’re just waiting for things to blow over. He needs a calming personality.” 

“So not you,” you retort. 

“No, not me. I’m into choking but not by him,” he snickers. 

“I can hear you,” the man leaning on the car hood snaps back as the sucker in his mouth hits his teeth. 

“Oh, I know,” Sam shoots a finger gun in his direction. “Also, he’s giving up smoking so he’s a bit testy.” 

“No, I spent eight hours in a car with you so I’m pissed off,” the grumbly sidekick hurls back. 

You look between them. Sam Wilson, the new Cap, superhero, avengers, comedian, and Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, assassin, and... mystery. You should refuse. You owe him but that much? A near-fugitive in your house? 

“Sam, I don’t exactly got a guest room,” you cross your arms. 

“Look, if the dame don’t wanna take me, don’t twist her arm,” Bucky sneers and bites into the sucker, scraping the stick with his teeth. “I can figure myself out.” 

“That’s what you said before the explosion. I’m not falling for it again, man,” Sam shoots back and shakes his head. He puts his hands on his hips and faces you. “You’re not just doing a service to me, but to America.” 

“Yes, okay, but this is Canada.” 

His eyes drift in realisation and his lashes flutter, “right, but we’re allies.” He looks at you again and smiles, “I thought Canadians were nice.” 

You roll your eyes. “Goddamnit. Fine.” 

“Like I said,” Bucky approaches, “I can go somewhere else. I don’t wanna be a burden.” 

“It’s not you,” you assure him. “There isn’t much space, that’s all. If you’re fine with that, so am I.” 

“I told him, it’s not a big deal,” Bucky huffs. “But he insists.” 

“I have to insist. I’m the Captain now.” 

“You keep saying,” he turns on Sam. “So why don’t you get that shield and we’ll see if you’re really up to that title.” 

“Alright, alright,” you step between them. You’re not a fan of conflict. Sam knows that and that’s why he brought him here. “No need to argue. You got a couch,” you look at Bucky then turn to the other man, “and you have a long ride home.” 

“Wait, you’re kicking me out?” Sam says. 

“If you stay any longer, I won’t stop him. I said he could stay, I said nothing about mediating whatever this is,” you wiggle your finger between them. 

Bucky snorts. He’s just as bad as Sam. They seem to only know how to goad the other.  

“Fair. I mean, you don’t want this guy getting any grumpier. He’s already such a treat,” Sam smirks. 

“Enough, I just told you,” you wag your index at him. “Well, nice to meet ya,” you turn and offer your hand to Bucky, “welcome to Canada.” 

“Thanks,” he says, though you can sense him staring down the other man. 

“Sam, have a safe trip. You need water or anything for the road?” You offer over your shoulder. 

“Nah, I think I’m good. A nice ride home alone. With good music. Think I’m set.” He cackles. 

“You wouldn’t know good music if it shot you in the face,” Bucky growls. 

“Dude, go get your bag out of my car,” Sam snips. “Good riddance, is what I say.” 

“Drive safe,” you shake your head as you walk toward the house. “I was in the middle of something.” 

You climb the porch steps and leave the inner door open as the screen door snaps shut behind you. Out of sight, you stop to shake off the adrenaline. You only realise then how the unexpected rival stirred you up. You weren’t ready for Sam but especially not a houseguest. Still, the only reason you have this place is because of that man. You can do this. 

You take a breath and go back to the kitchen. If Sam trusts Bucky, you can too. You’re not one to welcome in strangers, especially men, but this is different. And even if he asked, it wasn’t much of a choice. 

You wash your hands and dry them before pushing your sleeves back up. The striped button-up isn’t exactly your Sunday best. You add breadcrumbs to the bowl of raw beef as you hear footsteps on the porch. The door opens slowly and gently hits the frame. You listen to your guest as he sighs in the entryway. 

The house is small. One-floor, a single bedroom, a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen with a small dining table that doubles as your workspace. It isn’t much, but it’s yours. And it’s history. Your family’s. 

You sense him hovering just outside the doorway. You glance behind yourself and hang your hands over the brim of the bowl. You still need to chop the veggies but that can wait. It isn’t his fault Sam decided this would be the balance in the scales. 

“Let me show you around.” You cross the kitchen as he peers through.  

His beard is dark, his hair overgrown and pushed back behind his ears, and tugs at the bottom of his denim jacket. He looks skittish as you approach. He has a duffel bag in his hand. 

“Look, sorry if I came off short. You know how Sam can be,” you say. 

“I do. He assumes a lot,” he mutters. 

“Sure does. So, like I said, it’s not a big house. Kitchen here,” you point over your shoulder, “living room behind you, bathroom down the hall and the bedroom. There’s a back door. Yard’s bigger than the house.” 

“Got it.” 

“So, you’ll have to camp out on the couch but good news, it’s from 1987 so it folds out,” you squeeze by him and lead the way into the front room. 

“Beats a full barracks,” he comments. 

You nod and peek over at him. “Guess that makes sense.” 

He sniffs, “thanks. Really.” 

“Again, not too much,” you gesture to the room. “I gotta finish the meatloaf.” 

“Think I can handle it,” he affirms. 

[no-144444]

the grid: late for a date!

Day 29 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Daniel Riccardo, Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen

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Oscar Piastri: miscommunication

So, it wasn’t a date. As much as you thought it was, Lando showed up. That wasn’t uncommon for your ‘dates’ to turn into ‘Oscar and Lando time’, but it still pissed you off. You just wanted one night with your boyfriend. Not Lando’s.  

You huffed as you sat down at your vanity, carefully cleaning off your face with a wipe. 

“You’re annoyed,” Oscar stated, leaning against the door and watching you. 

“I’m not,” you sighed, truthfully just wanting to be left alone. 

“You clearly are,” he said matter-of-factly. “Talk to me.”

“I thought it was a date,” you explained sheepishly. “I was a little disappointed when Lando showed up. I thought it was just us two, y’know, since we haven’t gone out ‘just us’ in months.”

He sighed and looked down. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Osc, it's fine. I’m just much annoyed with myself that I didn’t properly read the text-”

“But we should go out, just the two of us. You’re right,” he realised how little he takes you out. “Why don’t you talk to me about this?” 

“You have a lot going on,” you shrugged. “I’m not going to add to it by being a bitch about shit like this.” 

“You’re never a bitch,” his heart ached a little, how could you ever think that he’d ever be annoyed by you? He wrapped his arms around you , pressing soft kisses to your neck and whispering apologies. “I love you so much, I want to be with you as much as possible. Lando was just lonely and called me, so I said yes. I’ll say no in future, yeah?”

You nodded, feeling a lot more loved than before. 

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Lando norris: he forgot. 

It had been weeks in the planning, you both were ecstatic to get to enjoy your favourite restaurant in Brazil. You sat there for 2 hours. In the end you ordered stuff to take out and left a hefty tip for the inconvenience of your boyfriend. You texted and called him at least 20 times. No fucking answer. 

When you got back to the hotel, he wasn’t there either and you started getting worried. Could he be hurt? Surely he wouldn’t forget the important date, he remembered about it last week. 

You called Oscar, scared that Lando was lying in a ditch somewhere or something. 

“Hey Y/n,” his voice came from the other side of the phone. Distantly you could hear the sound of house music playing loudly. 

“Is Lando with you?” You asked. 

“Well, he was a while ago, but now he’s going back to the hotel,” he explained. “Why?”

“Just wanted to check on you guys,” you sighed, unable to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “You all good?” 

“Yeah, I’m with Alex and Zhou, we’re just outside the club now, we’re safe, promise,” he smiled into the phone. 

“Alright, well, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Be careful,” you reminded him. 

“We will,” he nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

As you hung up the phone, the door swung open and Lando appeared. Dishevelled but there. 

“Baby I am so sorry I forgot about-“

“It’s fine,” you sighed, used to the excuses by now. “It’s whatever, Lando.”

“Baby, come on, let me make it up to you,” he tried again, but you stayed unchanged on the topic. 

“Something will always be more important to you,” you mumbled. “And every single time it kills me. And I just let it. Because sadly, I love you so much that I let you treat me like this.”

“Baby that’s not-“

“We planned this months ago, Lando. And I put so much fucking effort in to looking nice for you, and you don’t show. I was so excited to have one fucking night where I wasn’t dating Lando Norris, Championship Fighter, McLaren Number One, McLarens saviour. One fucking might where I could just be a girl who got to dress up night for her boyfriend, who showed up to the date. One night when we could be normal people, that’s what I wanted, Lando.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I have a lot on my mind…”

“Yeah, you do. Maybe we should break up.”

“W-what? You don’t mean that, right baby? Come on, I’m- we’re- you’re the best thing that’s ever fucking happened to me. I don’t wanna lose you-“

“Yeah and you don’t want to have me either! Lando, I do fucking everything for you, I’m so fucking understanding every single time you disappoint or fucking annoy me. I understand that you're going through shit, and I’m here to help you. But I cannot deal with this disrespect anymore, alright? I am worth something! Right? Like, I have to be worth more than what you’re giving me, right?” You said, breaking down. Your plan had been to just keep calm and talk tomorrow, but that clearly flew out the window. 

“I love you-“

“Do you?! Really?!”

You were both silent. 

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Lewis Hamilton: he forgot

The silence was deafening in your shared home. You sat at the table, all dressed up with nowhere to go. 

“Baby, I know I-“

“Just fuck off,” you sighed. “Go back to work, or whatever it was that held you up.”

“I wanna make it up to you, I’m sorry baby,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you. 

You took a deep breath. “I just wanted one night,” you sighed and he nodded, feeling guiltier by the second. “Away from work and the kids, just one fucking night Lewis.”

“How about a weekend? We drop the kids off at Natalie’s and we can go away for the weekend?” He offered and pressed a kiss to your cheek.. 

“We’re busy this weekend.”

“Cancel it.”

“Cancel my promotion dinner?” You scoffed. “Cancel Ellie’s football match? Cancel half the grid coming over? Cancel Nick’s karting race?” You quested, listing off the things you had to supervise for the weekend. 

He sighed. “I’m sorry baby, I forgot-“

“Yeah. You forgot. You keep fucking forgetting,” you groaned. “I just… I want some time. I’m pissed off right now and I just want to go to bed.”

“I’ll put the kids to bed,” he nodded. “I’m sorry again.”

“You’re always sorry Lewis. Just be there, for once,” you took a deep breath. “If not for me, then for our children. Don’t ruin the relationship because of your busy schedule.” 

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George Russell: you forgot...

You walked into your shared apartment, exhausted after work. 

“Hey darling,” he smiled, taking your bags out of your hands. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks love,” you smiled. Then you noticed the suit he was wearing. “You look handsome, what’s the occasion?”

His face fell. “Did you forget?” 

Shit. You did. The fucking anniversary dinner. “No! Just joking!” You laughed. “Give me like 20 minutes to get ready, yeah?”

He smiled. “Alright, just remember our reservations are in a little while.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

You completely forgot about the plans. No gift. No dress. Nothing. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You sat at dinner, somehow throwing together something, only to find out it wasn’t a fucking date, but a surprise birthday party. 

Your anniversary is months away. 

“Sorry baby,” he smiled, not one bit sorry. 

“I was terrified! I thought I’d fully forgotten!” You whined, rolling your eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, a promise for more later. 

“I'm sorry darling,” he added, a small wink in one eye as he pulled you into the dance floor. 

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Alex Albon: genuinely injured

You sat in his apartment, waiting for him to finally show his face. He was 40 minutes late, and while this wasn’t a huge deal, you had made dinner which had gone cold, plus you felt your time should be at least worth a text. 

The door finally opened and Alex walked through, well, uncoordinatedly crutched into the room, a huge boot covering his foot. 

“Holy shit, Alex,” you cursed, shocked at the sight in front of you. He blushed slightly. 

“Yeah… accident prone, or whatever my mum called me. I have a few weeks off,” he chuckled. 

“What happened?” you asked, just staring down at the boot. 

“Funny story, Lando-”

“Of fucking course it was you,” you scoffed, looking at the guilty Lando standing beside him. 

“Lando accidentally ran over my foot,” he finished. 

“With what?” you asked, wondering if it was a bike or something, surely Lando was an experienced enough driver to have not driven over Alex’s foot. 

“A car,” Oscar explained. “Twice.” 

You saw red, turning your attention to Lando. “You fucking idiot!” you seethed. You chuckled. “How fucking stupid are you?”

He just giggled and shrugged. “Very?” he offered as an answer. 

“Thank you for bringing him home, now please leave before you cause any more bodily harm,” you sighed, showing Lando the door. You weren’t really mad, just shocked. 

“I’m sorry I was late,” he sighed, sitting on the couch. 

You chuckled. “You don’t have to apologise for that,” joining beside him. “I’m sorry you broke your foot.”

“Lando broke my foot,” he corrected and you just laughed and pressed your lips against his. 

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Daniel Riccardo: he forgot 

You walked into your shared apartment with your head held low. He’d forgotten your anniversary. 

“Baby? Where have you been? Are you alri- you look beautiful,” he stood up, walking over to you. You looked up and he saw the tears streaming. That sinking feeling he’d had all day, the one that told him he forgot something, it finally clicked. He’d forgotten the date. 

“Do you know how humiliating it is when someone stands you up? Do you know how humiliating it is when that gets fucking paparazzied?”

He gasped, no way you’d been subjected to the paparazzi. “Baby I’m so-”

“Sorry? Sure, I  believe  you,” you scoffed. “Just leave me be.”

You walked off to your bedroom and he was left to think about how he could pick up the broken pieces. 

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Charles LeClerc: he’s just being a dick. 

At least he remembered the date, but the fact that he’s sitting on his phone the entire time is literally gaining you pity smiles from other girls in the restaurant. When you went to the bathroom, two girls literally called him a ‘fucking asshole’ for what he’s doing to you, and gave you their numbers so you could be friends and bitch about him. 

“Charles,” you sighed, looking down at your bowl of pasta. You weren’t exactly hungry anymore, and now you just wanted to go home instead of being publicly humiliated like this. 

He looked up from his phone for a split second. “Yeah?” straight back down. 

“Are you going to eat any time soon?” you sighed, looking at his full plate. 

He looked at his food, then picked up a fry and ate it. “Eating, see?”

You rolled your eyes. “I want to go home.” 

He finally put down his phone. “But we are having a nice date, no?” 

“A ‘nice date’ usually includes talking of some sort, and maybe just a little bit of attention from my boyfriend,” you gritted out. “This is what I was talking about, if you don’t have time for me, I’d understand Charles. Just don’t waste my time like this.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry-”

“Sorry isn’t cutting it anymore Charles, I’m not just going to wait here forever like some little fangirl who’s just ‘so blessed’ to be dating the Charles LeClerc. I love you, not you being a racing driver, not you being a model, not anything else. I love you, Charles. And I’m starting to feel like you don’t love me back.” 

“Mon ange, please listen-”

“I’m done listening, I’ll see you at home,” you said and got up, actually receiving a clap from the two girls you’d met in the bathroom. 

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Max Verstappen: circumstances end it. 

You called again. And again. And again. 

No answer. As always. 

Long distance was hard, it was always going to be. Max didn’t need to make it any harder by not showing up for your phone-dates. He hadn’t called in months. He hadn’t seen you in over a year. He hadn’t done anything. He was never the first to call or text. He was never the one making the effort. He made you feel like a burden. He made you feel like shit. 

Max: Busy sorry. Can’t make it tonight. 

You: Don’t bother calling again. We’re done. 

Max: What are you talking about???

You: There’s always something more important than us. There’s always something you’d rather do. I’m so done with this shit Max. I want a boyfriend, not a fucking pen pal. I want a boyfriend who texts and calls me back. I want a boyfriend who asks about my day. I want someone who actually cares about me. 

Max: I care about you! Alright, just let me call you later, I’m at HQ right now

You: Max. I. Am. Done. Don’t fucking call me, don’t text me, don’t visit me. Let me live my life in peace. 

Max: Is that really what you want?

A tear fell down your cheek as you read the message. You wanted Max, but you knew you could never truly have him, he’d always be married to his craft, always be more in love with winning than he’d ever been with you. 

You: Yes. 

You have now blocked this user. 

You had to think about yourself.

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fic-tober masterlist

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[usedpidemo]

Too many nights ((G)I-dle Yuqi)

The way you see it, even if the signs were right in front of you all along—written in bright, colorful signposts with the largest text imaginable—you’d still be hurling yourself off that cliff. 

Yuqi knows this too—you think she does.

At the very least, she looks convincing enough that she feigns innocence on the matter, and she is. It's mainly a you problem. She doesn’t know you much other than being the sweet, quiet guy who was her roommate in college and nothing else.

And that’s probably the reason why she’s standing in front of your newly minted apartment on a random Monday.

—————

You’re waiting for her to pick her bags off the floor and leave. You told her to leave three times. Threaten to call security on her. She doesn’t budge. Instead, she stares. Stubborn, obstinate, unyielding.

“Please, give me one opportunity. Please let me explain myself.” Yuqi finally breaks her silence, eyes wide, glinting with tears, pleading.

“Shoot.”

She looks down, unable to see you eye to eye, her hands running through the pockets of her skirt. “You’re right. I’ve taken your kindness for granted, and I’m sorry. I really am.” 

Pausing, you’ve never heard her sound this quiet, this personal. “I never truly appreciated you till I was home with my parents. I should have focused more on studying than going out and having fun. Now look. They’re pissed that I’m being a bum at home instead of working, so they kicked me out.”

She proves your theory to be true. She has no reason to be here unless you bail her out of trouble again.

“But I can’t find one job that I like. Working a 9-5 or any regular cashier job seems so boring, you know what I mean? Doesn’t feel like my type of thing to do,” she continues, lightly kicking the suitcases with her feet. “My friends are all busy, so I had no one to lean on. Then I remembered you! So here I am.”

At least it was nice seeing Yuqi act mature for at least three minutes before reverting to her usual spry, childlike personality. 

“Okay? Well that’s on you for being lazy, and I can’t help with that. Sorry to hear you got kicked out, but I have nothing to offer you. It was great seeing you, though. Good luck with that job.” 

You try closing the door, but she stops it with her foot. Peeking through the narrow space, you find Yuqi persistent, unrelenting. “Wait. Hear me out for a second, I said I didn’t wanna be your roommate.”

“No, Yuqi. Just go—”

“I really need you right now. I’ve already applied to like five different companies on public wifi, it’s so fucking slow and I doubt they even got my email. I just need a place to stay for like a month. Trust me, I’ll get a job and when I get paid, I’ll spend it on finding my own apartment! Just give me this one time.”

You swear you’ve never heard Yuqi this desperate, this loud. Your neighbors are probably ringing up security right now, maybe the owner too.

“Okay, okay. Just calm down for a minute, will you? Our neighbors are listening.” You open the door lightly and Yuqi’s eyes light up. You didn’t even say yes, but it might as well be a confirmation to her.

“You promise? You’re actually working on a job application?” you ask, doubtful about her claim.

“Of course.” Yuqi shows her phone, presents pdf files of multiple application letters to the very places she doesn’t want to work. Some fastfood chains, at convenience stores, and mall outlets. “None of them have replied back, so—I’m still trying to apply to more places, but I’m almost out of data on my plan and I don’t wanna spend another night inside my car. Just give me this one thing? Okay?”

Seeing the evidence firsthand, you can’t help but be impressed. If you had any spine, you’d contemplate the proposal more, give it some time to mellow out, maybe let her elaborate some terms of agreement. But in a moment of weakness, you yield right away. What’s one month of Yuqi gonna do to you?

“All right, fine. I’ll let you stay—”

“I owe you one, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Yuqi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when she brings her suitcases into your apartment at record speed. She gives you a peck on the cheek in appreciation twice, one for each pair of suitcases she shuffles in.

You can only sigh in response before closing the door.

—————

Before Yuqi gets comfortable in her new place, you sit her down on the living room couch to discuss house rules. This isn’t like college, where you share a dorm together, split the bill and have personal spaces. While you don’t own the apartment, you make one thing very clear: she’s bound to you and whatever rules you impose on her.

“Let’s make one thing and one thing clear: you break any of my rules, you’re outta here. I don’t care if you explain yourself, you’re gone. Understood?”

“Right.” Yuqi’s trembling with excitement and impatience, nodding erratically, kicking her legs up, goading you into rushing through everything so she can lay on an actual bed. 

You take a moment to analyze her suitcases in the middle of the room. Facing her, you ask cautiously, “Tell me you didn’t bring your—”

“Yep!” She responds almost immediately, thrilled to answer your question, as if it were muscle memory. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”

And there goes your supposed rule one. Of course she brought her entire dorm room decor along. Knowing her, they’re likely encompassing two of her suitcases.

“Yeah, no. My landlord is quite strict about decor, so you can’t put them up,” you tell her bluntly; there’s no getting around his rule, even if your roles were swapped.

She frowns, visibly devastated, probably more hurt than being kicked out by her family. It’s the end of the world, but she won’t give in. If there’s even a slight possibility she can have her way, she will force herself through. “Please? Even just my room—”

“Not a chance. It’s just a general rule here, sorry.” You make sure to shut her down immediately. “I didn’t make that rule, anyway. Blame the owner.”

Yuqi acquiesces. She groans with displeasure, crossing her arms, acting bratty. No act can convince you to change your mind.

“Right. Now actual ground rules. This isn’t a dorm so you can’t just freeload as much as you want. Now I understand you're still working on that job application, so all I’m asking is just for you not to be completely messy, got it? So don’t eat my leftovers without asking, don’t go out to clubs and ask me to drive you home when you’re drunk, none of that. If you’re drunk, sleep outside the room. I don’t want to clean up vomit on the carpets.”

Surprisingly, Yuqi agrees without complaint. You’re unsure whether she’s nodding so she can settle in, or if she actually understood every single word.

“I seriously hope you’re working on that job—”

“Don’t worry! Just give me the wifi password and I’ll be set.” Yuqi can’t help but interrupt you every single time, and to her credit, it’s effective. She does seem dead set on taking this opportunity to redeem herself, and it’s a convincing act. As insufferable as she can be at times, you want to see her succeed. You want to see her win.

You jot down the wifi password on an extremely thin sheet of paper and place it on the table before her. Before walking away, you ask her, “You need me to help with your belongings? I’ll get the guest room ready while you make yourself comfort—”

“Nah, it’s fine!” Yuqi’s typing on her phone, not even shooting you a look in your direction. “I’ll get it sorted out, don’t worry! Just pretend I’m not here.”

To her credit, she does get her belongings sorted out. By evening, she moves into a cleared out storage room that’s now her designated bedroom. Words are hardly exchanged other than simple pleasantries and greetings. You ask her if she had dinner, she says yes. She doesn’t take anything from the fridge other than some water. There’s a knock on the door; she answers and comes back with a package of chinese food. She offers to share some, but you modestly decline.

You never ate together when you shared a dorm in college. She would eat her inside her bedroom or after you already cleaned up. At times, she’d come back to the dorm late and you wouldn’t see her till the following day. You share the same space but you have vastly different lives. The feeling is familiar, but the setting is new: having dinner under the low light, uncertain about your futures. 

This feels like your first day together all over again.

—————

The first night with Yuqi is a quiet affair. There’s hardly any commotion. An unusual scene. She finishes her food ahead of you then retreats into her bedroom without uttering a single word. 

When you wake up the next morning, Yuqi is already at the dining table. Browsing her laptop, coffee in hand, seemingly focused on that next job application. She doesn’t even greet you or acknowledge your existence; she’s in her own world, but in a good way. 

“Morning,” you quietly say, trying to grab her attention, but it falls on deaf ears. 

“You off to work?” she asks, preceded by a mouse click while you pour onto your mug. Her attention remains glued to the screen, paying you no heed.

“Kind of?” You take a seat opposite Yuqi’s side on the table. “I work here. Or should I say: this is my workplace.” 

“Wow. I wish I could work from home. Would be nice,” she replies between mouse clicks and keyboard taps.

You take a light sip of your coffee. “What course did you take again?” 

“Umm—” Yuqi slumps back in her chair, “I think it was medicine? I wanted to become a guitarist and have my own band, but my parents wanted me to become a doctor. And I don’t wanna ruin my handwriting, so—” 

“Don’t you have a band with your friends? The one with—”

“Yeah that dream died two years ago.” Yuqi’s eyes squint, brows furrowing, running through every word slightly faster than normal. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Not even a little—”

“No.” She faces you with a surprisingly cold glare, a sight you’ve never seen before. “They can just fuck off—those goddamn bitches.” 

You find yourself unable to move the conversation forward after her abrupt turn. It’s probably for the best; you hardly paid any attention to Yuqi’s life to be entitled to a substantial explanation. 

The rest of the hour goes by in deafening, awkward silence. Here’s Yuqi, this ball of energy whose life primarily revolves around partying and getting rowdy, calmly clicking on the touchpad and typing a few words every now and then in search of a way to fund her addiction. You can tell from her sullen expression just how deprived she is of that high—how incomplete she feels without the rush of adrenaline, ecstasy, and alcohol flowing through her veins. It’s impressive how it takes someone to hit rock bottom to turn their life around, how all this could have been avoided with a few decisions.

Still, it’s never too late for someone like her, and as long as she holds up her end of the deal, i.e. leave you for good after this, you’ll actively root for her success.

—————

“Fucking hell, dude,” sighs Yuqi, slamming the panel of her laptop hard, her fist narrowing missing the edge of the table. While you’ve made yourself comfortable at your usual workplace, a spacious office desk on the other side of the living room, you’re preoccupied scanning through numerous documents and emails your boss sent you. A look at the bottom right of the screen tells you it’s half past lunch. Then your stomach grumbles, as if the clock wasn’t enough of a reminder.

“Gonna make lunch,” you say to a vexed Yuqi, who’s stretching her legs against the table and her arms to the ceiling, body likely aching from her hunched position. “You good?”

“Yep.” Her tone perfectly toes the line between sincerity and sarcasm. “Got three rejections—no, four, actually. The last one was sent minutes ago.”

You’re not sure how to respond.

“Oof.” 

You couldn’t relate to her even if you tried. Of the two applications you sent, your current job is the one that gave you the freedom and flexibility to work from home, even if it paid less than the other. That was six months ago; finding job opportunities has become way harder, or so you’ve heard from your other unemployed peers from college.

“Finding a job sucks,” says Yuqi, stating the obvious. She finally gets up from her chair, brings her laptop back into her bedroom to charge before reemerging with a hairpin wrapped around her knuckles, tying it around her loose red hair. “So, what’s for lunch?”

“Meatloaf and eggs,” you reply, firing up the stove as you grab pans from beneath the sink. “Not sure if you’ll like it, though.”

She lifts her eyebrows, intrigued, but mostly unbothered. She’ll eat anything as long as it isn’t fast food or from the convenience store, and she doesn’t have the gall to complain, anyway, as your roommate. 

—————

“So, how’s the job hunting going?” you ask her right as the sun descends over your apartment windows. You have your schedule down to a science, finishing all intended projects and goals when neighboring buildings’ lights open. Weekdays can’t be anymore mundane and monotonous, but you get the job done, you’re paid handsomely, and you have time for your other hobbies.

Meanwhile, Yuqi looks like she doesn’t want to stare at a computer screen for a week, maybe a month. She looks worse off than she did in the morning. It’s evident in her clothes, her hair, her face: frazzled and messy. A perfect representation of her state.

“What do you think?” she replies, never sounding so heated, so frustrated. A look at her screen shows a new rejection letter, piled between several others, already read. Each one with different reasons, different ways to hurt, but with the same intent: we appreciate your interest, but we have chosen a different candidate from a very competitive pool—we don’t think you fulfill our qualifications—we’re looking for someone with more experience—we wish you the best in your future endeavors. You’ve noticed she tends to click back and forth between each letter, as if to torture herself further.

“I think you should put that laptop away. Try again tomorrow,” you tell her, closing the panel while she’s scrolling, stealing her attention. She readjusts her glasses, blinking rapidly, annoyed at your little intervention. “I’m going for a walk. You should join me.”

“And what if I don’t?” she asks, threatening to pull her laptop away from your fingers. 

“Good luck going out when I have the room key then.”

“I don’t have my running shoes,” she replies, and she’s telling the truth; she only brought one pair of slippers with her, the rest being colorful sets of boots and expensive high heels.

“Then grab some from my closet and wash up. You’ll look stupid if you go out in those silly boots.”

—————

At first, you believe she had declined the offer; you had already left the building when Yuqi caught up to you moments later, huffing and puffing from exhaustion. Hey, maybe she could have been a great track and field athlete if she put her mind to it.

You can’t help but make a little comment. “Thought you weren’t going to go out.”

That was for all the times she’d make similar remarks to you back in college. They never really bothered you; you were never a man of high morals and upstanding, but at least you had your priorities sorted out, unlike Yuqi. 

Yuqi playfully counters your rib, shooting you a disparaging stare. “Dude. I’m doing you a favor by doing this.”

“Elaborate.” You laugh.

“You never went out whenever I asked you. You always said no to parties.”

“And for good reason. Look at us now.” 

If you wanted to, you’d be harsher. You have years of dirty laundry and grievances to air out, but this is as concise and as restrained as you can express them without getting accused of attempted murder. Besides, you can’t keep a straight face the longer you look at her. She clearly stands out in a rather dreary and dull crowd, and it isn’t the red hair as bright as the sun, it's her look—or lack thereof. Your oversized hoodie, your running shoes mixed with her pajamas, the lack of bra—it’s obvious she only did the bare minimum to look decent in a public setting, and yet she fits in all of them like a glove.

“Where are we going, anyway? Can it be a bar? I hope it’s a bar.” 

The first thing she wants to look for once outside is a place to drink. Of course. It’s hardly a surprise to you or anyone at this point.

“Where’s your car anyway?” you question back. 

“I dunno. Could be in the carpark, could have been impounded. I don’t remember, and I don’t really care. It smells like dogshit, anyway, cause I’ve been living in it for the past three weeks.” 

Yuqi talks with a fine blend of fast and sardonic, evidently scarred from all her ordeals with that car. She’s never experienced living outside her glass castle until now, and it shows. She’s dragging her feet with every step following you close behind, trying to soak in the scenery around her. Street lights, joggers, buskers, friends, and partners of every sort, people that you actually know and recognize. It’s all foreign in her eyes. All she knows are strobe lights, loud music, drinks, and rowdy crowds. 

“So, like, do you just go on a walk every single day or you only do this because I’m your roommate?” she wonders, her gaze lingering at a passing woman jogger that catches her eye. Jumping to conclusions, she adds, “Are you telling me to touch grass? As if I hadn’t been doing that for weeks?”

You turn around and notice her distant stare, still fixated on that woman, ruminating the prospect of leaving you for her instead. “I don’t think getting blacked out drunk and vomiting in your car counts as touching grass.”

“How do you even know that?” Yuqi faces you, provoked by your comment, pouting. “You hardly attend parties, even when I invited you. You always turned them down.”

“Word gets around fast. I thought you already knew that.” 

If she could, she’d grab you by the throat and strangle you to death or rip you in half. It stings. She questions whether your blunt, matter-of-fact delivery makes the statement ten times more scathing. Then she wonders if she made a mistake, dressing up and going after you, when you’ll just be making her regret her life decisions like her parents did. You hardly cared back then, so why now?

“Can we just go to a bar? You’re being annoying.” Yuqi stares into the distance, intentionally averting her gaze away from you.

“If you have the money, then sure, let’s go for it.” You know she has no leverage or power; she can only afford fast food and a month’s worth of groceries and daily necessities. It pains her to make a willing decision to pass on alcohol and avoid bars and parties. She’s down horrendously, but she won’t directly confess her own fatal flaw. 

It takes everything within her not to slap you square in the face. 

And you can play this game all night long until she folds. You can stand there, argue, and debate with Yuqi till she runs out of excuses and complaints. Four years of pent up material to unload onto her, make a scene in public and turn her into an example about not wasting one’s life away. You can go further, you promise. 

Instead, you both settle down in a cafe on the other side of the park as a compromise.

The place is more suited to Yuqi’s style: lively crowd, comfortable ambience, all the caffeine and sugar as a proxy to her raging alcohol addiction. Most importantly, she won’t pay for shit. You don’t even end up drinking your own order; she does it on your behalf. You settle for a tiny cup of tap water instead. In a way, she’s acting like a needy dog, desperate for attention without concern for anything else that doesn’t involve her.

“Fucking hell, I never knew I needed this,” she echoes, sipping up the last quarter of your coffee, glancing at the menu over the counter, itching for another. She’s keen on paying from her pocket this time; she recognizes you won’t give her another freebie. “This shit tastes so good.”

You can only shake your head, not even remotely trying to hide your frustration toward her. Her obliviousness is kind of cute in a way, making her look a bit sympathetic. 

“Maybe I should just work here,” she says, her eyes moving in every direction, her attention taken by something shiny every five seconds. Plenty of action happens at night: groups entering and exiting, the pervasive scent of fresh coffee brewing in real time, and plenty of girls to ogle at. In particular, there’s a waitress with a cherry tattoo on her neck that’s captured her interest. She can’t help but point her out to you, grinning widely at her. “See that waitress? She’s kinda cute.”

“Uh-huh.” You’re not really paying attention; you’re there mainly for the free wifi and a snack, not to flirt. Luckily for you both, the waitress is preoccupied with meeting high customer demands to notice. “Good idea, maybe you should apply here.”

The longer you stay inside the cafe premises, the more Yuqi becomes less inclined to leave. You end up having dinner, a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches from the snack menu. On her end, four cups of coffee strewn on the table, all drank by her. If this was some ploy to make you pay for free drinks, it worked to a tee. Anything to avoid engaging you in a serious conversation.

The opportunity never presents itself. Soon, the cafe becomes dimmer and muted. Staff are closing off sections, clearing trays, and cleaning up empty tables. Since you entered the cafe, she has not made a move on the waitress at all, even when you’ve tried pushing her over the cliff numerous times. Her shift is close to done, ready to check out for the day. One more opening. Still, Yuqi watches her intently, but can’t find the strength to stand, let alone pull the trigger.

“Well? I thought you were gonna ask her out or something.” You take a look around and come to a grim realization: that you’re the only two customers left.

“I—I don’t think I wanna do it now.” Yuqi turns around, playfully grinning, but rushing through her words. “Maybe when I get the job here. Maybe.”

You can only react in quiet disbelief to how this was all just a huge waste of time—and money.

“Fucking—” you sputter before masking the rest of your response, groaning as you rise from your seat, leaving.

After two days, your main observation is that Yuqi hasn’t changed much. If at all.

—————

The rest of the week follows a similar structure. It’s comforting; it’s the kind of monotony you’ve acquainted yourself in ever since having your own apartment. Yuqi’s always up before you, an hour in advance, she’ll tell you. At her usual spot around the dining table, on her laptop, coffee in hand. You stop asking for updates after the third day; you’re certain she’ll figure things out. Your mindfulness and curiosity get the better of you, peeking through the screen on occasion, only to find the same thing. One rejection after another, mixed in with a new application letter in between. From the outside looking in, it’s as if some divine force doesn’t want her to get that job.

In the evenings, you go for your usual walks. Yuqi joins you out of the apartment building, but instead of following, she separates and heads the other way. She’s wearing her own earphones and your hoodie, something she’ll end up keeping. The few times you run across each other, she's holding some drink in her hand, usually the coffee from the cafe you spent time with her in, her hoodie pooling with sweat all over. No pleasantries, you mind your own business till you return home.

It isn’t until two weeks after she’s moved in that you extend an invitation: a visit to a newly opened lounge on the other side of town. You preface the invite saying you only knew about the place because it had opened a month ago, and had mostly forgotten about it until you remembered her. She’s doing well for herself, so you might as well reward her for her efforts, even if it hasn’t gone anywhere. And it isn’t Yuqi without asking for some kind of favor; in this case, taking a ride in your car because hers has been impounded by the police. You’re not even surprised that she’s too lazy to reclaim it herself.

Your friend says the lounge is newly opened, but once inside, you’re uncertain about her claim. Whether it's by design or her being a complete liar, grimy, poorly lit, in the vein of all those underground clubs you had seen in action movies where a shootout or police raid occurs. Simply put, there isn’t anywhere pretty to look at, and you feel icky just by being here.

To Yuqi, it’s a fantasyland: it’s where she’s meant to be all along. She’s so overjoyed to be there. 

“It’s you!” calls a familiar voice; you turn and find a friendly face over the counter waving to you. You quietly leave Yuqi to herself and approach the bartender, who just so happens to be the owner. “I never thought you’d come and visit! It’s great to see you.”

“Only doing this for a friend, Minnie,” you silently tell her, pointing your finger at your invited guest, the sole reason you’d ever be here. She recognizes her immediately and understands.

“Yuqi, huh?” She looks intrigued, her gaze lingering at the girl. A subtle grin is forming on her face. “Never thought the two of you would be an item like that, considering she’s a party animal and you’re—”

“No—no—don’t get it twisted,” you interrupt, frantically trying to clear up any presumption. There’s no chance in hell you will ever find yourself attached to Yuqi romantically, not even a little. “It’s—a long story.”

“Do tell.” Minnie smirks, teasing, alluring. She looks the part of a bar owner, all right; dark eyelashes and shadowy lipstick matching her pitch black hair. Not to mention her slim dress perfectly hugging her tight frame, showing enough cleavage to draw attention. As a friendly gesture, she gives you a wine glass and pours a drink on it. “We’ve got all the time in the world and all the drinks you need. All in house since you’re a friend.”

So you oblige yourself to a tiny sip. The place is surprisingly quiet and empty, even though it’s the weekend, with lo-fi music playing through the speakers as the only form of background noise. Minnie doesn’t have much on her plate. She can lean on the desk and listen to you all night long.

“So, two weeks ago, Yuqi moved into my place trying to look for a job,” you tell Minnie before taking another sip. Both of you take quick glances at Yuqi, seemingly having the time of her life, scaring off the sole patron by the billiards table. “And I was wondering if you can get her a job here. She’s been rejected from every company she applied for. I know she doesn’t want to work a nine-to-five, and I suddenly remembered this place.”

Minnie raises a curious eyebrow, brushing small strands of hair covering her ear. “I see.” Looking past you, she notices Yuqi, now at the karaoke, amused by her voice and energy. You follow along and watch too, wincing at her talent, caught completely by surprise. You can feel the passion and emotion from her rather honeyed, deep singing voice, as well as her natural charisma while performing. 

“Damn. She sounds really good. Borderline natural at it.” Minnie’s in awe of Yuqi’s abilities, the sort of reaction that pushes buttons, steals the show. “Wasn’t she in a band? I know she played guitar.”

“She said it doesn’t exist anymore, won’t tell me what happened.” 

Even in the midst of conversation, Yuqi’s voice manages to snatch away your focus. She’s an extremely powerful singer—a natural, as Minnie said. Her voice is overpowering the background music with little difficulty. There’s little need to watch when her vocals can easily capture your attention all the same. 

Facing you again, Minnie replies, clasping her hands together, “How about she perform by herself?” she suggests. 

You meet her eye to eye at the drop of the notion, curious.

“What do you mean?” You take another sip.

“We have an open mic night next weekend, and we could use talent to liven up the place. She sounds perfect for that kind of gig. Who knows? Maybe she can be a resident singer if the cards are right.” Minnie smiles through every word, recognizing Yuqi’s talent and the untapped potential she has. All she needs is a platform to showcase her skill properly. And taking another glance at her, you see that too. She has the passion and the vocals to croon a live audience.

“I’ll tell her,” you say, turning to Minnie again. Yuqi has finished performing and is on her way over to the bar. Your conversation breaks off as the two women greet each other with an exchange of kisses on the cheek. 

“Great place you got here girl,” Yuqi tells Minnie, beaming from ear to ear. “I’ll be popping by often if you don’t mind.”

“Thanks. I could use some company on the weekdays, if I’m being honest.” Minnie hands Yuqi her own wine-filled glass, as well as a complimentary bottle. She makes sure not to “Take it, it’s on the house.”

“God, this is why I love you so fucking much.” Yuqi drinks up the whole glass in one swig, and immediately pours some from the complimentary bottle. Minnie can’t help but shake her head with a little smile, knowing this is still the same Yuqi she’s acquainted with since college. A rose-tinted view of days gone by. 

The two women spend the rest of the time catching up. With how much they talk, it would be a safe assumption to think that these are two long lost friends who haven’t spoken in years. Then the conversation goes on and on, revealing more details than you should probably know: exchanged  private messages as recent as last night, Yuqi’s intentions to visit the lounge sooner before present circumstances got in the way, and how she ended up in your apartment. As a listener and side character in her story, it’s a part you quite frankly never wanted, let alone be involved in under any capacity. You make sure to add your point of view in the narrative and clear every question. Whenever you chime in, they laugh heartily. It’s a mess, and they’re unapologetically quirky, never failing to make fun of you at times.

Despite everything, the topic is never brought up: the upcoming open mic night, her performance, her natural talent. You were planning to shoehorn the idea, but one too many drinks later, the conversation and opportunity eventually slips away. Again. 

Yuqi can hardly stand on her own two feet when she finally decides it's time to leave. It’s two in the morning when you guide her back to your car, with her drunk out of her mind and slipping into unconsciousness. Minnie assists you, making it even more embarrassing. Even when she’s so inebriated that she can barely move a muscle, she says she wants another round, slipping back into her old ways.

You escort Yuqi back to your apartment, setting her down on her bed and promising yourself that you’ll tell her about Minnie’s offer when she’s sober in the morning. 

Except it’s the one fucking day in the month where your job calls you into an actual office for a meeting. Despite that, Yuqi is not at her usual spot in the living room the next morning (unsurprisingly), so you leave food on the table for when she eventually wakes up.

—————

Returning late in the afternoon, you find a note from Yuqi on the outside door of your apartment, stamped by strawberry lipstick, simply reading:

> Not gonna be around till tomorrow. Have something urgent to attend to - XOXO, song yuqi

Sure enough, one brief tour of the apartment and Yuqi is nowhere to be seen. Her room remains untouched: the same, colorful space it’s always been, with most of her clothes and belongings still strewn everywhere on the floor. You don’t even mind the stickers and posters plastered all over the walls; she was gonna break that rule regardless. Typical, but expected. At least you know she hasn’t completely left yet.

Deep down, it’s the first time in a while that your apartment feels a lot smaller—and lonelier. It’s not that you have any sentimental attachment to Yuqi—not in the slightest—but her presence clearly livens up the place. The difference without her around is night and day. Even when your interactions are limited to a minimum, the brief moments you interact make living by yourself a bit more tolerable. 

So you preoccupy your mind with your usual schedule: a walk in the park, then dinner by yourself. But these intrusive thoughts grow worse and worse. You’re not in your pajamas at the usual hour, her absence is keeping you up at night, and waiting for her to walk through that door is about as brutal as federal punishment.

You end up driving to Minnie’s bar, inquiring about Yuqi’s whereabouts. She says she hasn’t been around, and she hasn’t exchanged messages with her since last night. Then she asks about open mic night; you tell her about the inconvenience, about the note on your door, which is why you’re there. Good effort, but she ultimately gives you nothing.

“You should stay here a while, who knows? I can message Yuqi you’ve been looking for her,” says Minnie, her smile as welcoming as it’s ever been. “Why not have a drink in the meantime?”

“Hmm.” You entertain the thought, but she promised to return tomorrow, and perhaps you’re overthinking it; you just have to let it play out. “No thanks.” As a distraction you’re watching another girl at the karaoke machine. She has distinctively pink hair, has similar energy and passion for singing, except her voice is much higher, more nasally. All she does is remind you of Yuqi, but she’s nowhere close—in appearance and in ability. “She promised to be back tomorrow. Maybe I should take her word for it and go home.”

A pour of wine on the glass is followed by her siren-like whisper. With her hand caressing your shoulder, she mutters, “So—you like her. You like Song Yuqi.”

You raise an eyebrow, taken aback by her statement. Facing Minnie, you reply, “What? No way. I don’t like Yuqi at all. I’m just concerned she might have disappeared, that’s all.”

“Cap.” Minnie smirks, murmurs to your other ear. “You like her. Actually, you love her. You just won’t admit it.”

“And what makes you say that?” 

“The fact you look so distressed wondering where she is. I mean—just look at you.” Her voice is slow, delicate, each word delivered with profound emphasis. She flickers a lighter, then directs the cigarette in her mouth for a puff. “Would someone who doesn’t like her worry like this?”

“I mean—I’m just trying to help her get back on her feet,” you tell her, and Minnie can only chuckle in response. Puff more smoke. In her eyes, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your words have no weight to them. It’s the same old same old most women like her hear dozens of times. I’m not into her, says the guy who’s showing an alarming level of concern towards said girl. Something she’s all too familiar with. “You know? Just looking out for a friend, that kinda thing.”

Minnie wishes she can hold up a mirror against you now to prove her point. In a place meant for everyone to relax and ease themselves, you look tumid, on the verge of a historical crash out. She smirks into her next smoke, shaking her head, scrolling through her phone. “Sure. I believe you,” she remarks, and there’s no effort made to hide the sarcasm in any capacity.

That piece of cigar looks quite appealing right now. She sells smoking like she sells the off shoulder dress draping her defined figure: exceptionally well, like she’s meant for it.

Later in the night—you’re unsure whether it’s still today or tomorrow—Minnie suddenly approaches you with a shift in enthusiasm, as seen through her grin: “You should probably head home. Unless you want to stay the night waiting for someone who won’t be here in the morning.”

“She’s back already?” You manage to decipher the hint right away.

She nods, can’t help herself from beaming continuously. No effort to lie or maintain the mystery further. “I guess you’re not as stupid as I thought you’d be.”

Running up the stairs in a hurry, you respond to her little jab with a shout, “And you owe me one for that. Actually—no, I owe you one!” 

Unknowingly, Yuqi’s little mannerisms are starting to reflect in you, too.

Sure enough, you’re home within a matter of minutes. Empty streets, dead nightlife on a weekday, the loudest thing heard for miles is the roar of your car’s engine and the elevator headed up to your apartment floor. Any other time you’d burst through that door like an officer with an arrest warrant, but it’s almost three in the morning, and the last thing you want to be is apprehended yourself after a noise complaint. 

The place remains as unchanged as you had left it: completely dark, save for one light over the kitchen. It’s quiet, eerily silent—until you hear airy, soft noises in the distance. Room by room, you carefully inspect where the sound is coming from, only to find nothing at all. 

There’s only one place left to check, and it happens to be the Yuqi’s bedroom. A room you remember being empty. As you approach the sole unopened door, you notice the faint sound growing in pitch. Hushed words from a familiar tone.

“Fuck—oh fuck—”

You press an ear against the door frame. She sounds clearer.  Way more explicit. Vivid.

“So—so—good—fuck yes—”

There’s a subtle creaking sound that accompanies her singsong tone almost perfectly. Nothing is left open for interpretation; Yuqi is feeling herself. Feeling a satisfaction that only comes from something slick, something rough, something good. 

As much as you want to respect her space, her moment in the dark, you can’t help yourself. She sounds so good, so gratifying to the ears, it’s making you a little hot and flustered, much to your own guilt and shame. You don’t care about the consequences; you’ll allow yourself one little look then pretend it never happened. At best, she’s too preoccupied with her own bliss to notice, and at worst, it’ll be one awkward conversation starter in the morning.

“Oh, oh God—you feel really good baby—just like that—”

It’s as if she’s reading your mind, understanding your intentions. The way she moans your name like an invitation—something you never thought you would hear or even consider—how it’s naturally delivered from her sweet, intoxicating voice. You’re doing yourself a disservice by listening through the door.

There’s no better opportunity than now.

With your heart racing against your chest, every nerve in your muscles tense up as it desperately opens the door, slowly and as quietly as humanly possible. Miraculously, you go completely unnoticed. Even as light from the living room slowly penetrates through Yuqi’s bedroom, it fails to cover what really matters: the bed and Yuqi herself. 

Nevertheless, the sight that welcomes you is one to behold, one worth looking at with complete awe.

Yuqi’s body is splayed out on the bed. Her legs are spread wide, a couple of her fingers aggressively rubbing against her exposed clit, and there’s a glossy sheen coating the sheets before her soaking wet core. Her clothes are, unsurprisingly, scattered all over the floor, along with a pair of consumed alcohol bottles. She’s completely bare for your eyes to see. Nothing is left to your imagination. More importantly, she looks so fucking hot. Your heart is racing like never before, and the scene has your pants in a twist.

Her other hand runs up and down her lithe frame, then squeezes her own breast. She lets out this sharp mewl, grinding her hips against air. Her jaw slacks wide. Her eyes shut tight. Her back arches. Waves of self-induced pleasure send shockwaves through every fiber of her being, her moans growing more and more erratic.

“Fucking give it to me—I love this cock so fucking much—”

It’s about as pornographic and explicit as it gets. It riles you up in an uncomfortable way; you end up unzipping your pants to free your growing erection, but nothing happens beyond that. It feels wrong. It is wrong, but you can’t muster up the strength to look away, let alone walk away. You want to see how it ends. How she cums.

She wraps a hand around her own throat, while her knees are planted upright with her feet firmly gripped on the sheets. There's a noticeable tone change in her whines, as if simulating the act. Yet, the words flow from her lips seamlessly. “I’m so close—so, so close—”

The cackle she makes after is mortifying. Here’s this girl, who you had zero attraction prior to tonight, shamelessly declaring how she’s going to cum, how good your cock feels inside her—without either of the two even happening to begin with. The fact she likes you is the least shocking revelation in itself. A reminder: you only had three meaningful conversations with her since she moved in—two if you consider how blackout drunk she was the night before, and even if you go all the way back to your college days, you can count them with your fingers alone.

“Fucking—cumming—oh my God—”

Yuqi strains her knees and loosens her grip on the sheets as she lets the pleasure wash over. Clear liquid gushes past her throbbing, relentless fingers and spills onto the linen. A guttural, deep moan fills the bedroom as she slumps her body flat on the mattress, her energy completely depleted, her thoughts filled with nothing but orgasmic bliss. Her coated hands rest on her bare waist, her tummy, leaving viscous sheen on her creamy pale skin.

When she isn’t screaming your name or touching herself to the thought of you, Yuqi, at her barest, looks so gorgeous like this. Flaws and all.

Albeit brief, it’s quite the show to more than satisfy your thirst for her. You remember your uninvited presence in this room and where you stand in this relationship. That she’s only a tenant—an acquaintance at best—and nothing more. Any other person and situation would already send you damning to hell. 

So you quietly leave, gather your bearings, hoping her haze doesn’t clear before she is made aware of your presence, but you hear a faint whisper right as you close the door, clearer than any whine of pleasure:

“Hey.”

Part of you wants to ignore her, pretend this is all a huge misunderstanding and feign ignorance. Then you hear her soft, alluring voice calling your name and it’s what ultimately folds you:

“W-what time is it?”

Again, you consider the choice of entertaining her question or leaving her dry. She’ll probably fall asleep shortly after and forget these few moments. You tell her it’s three in the morning, hoping she dozes off.

She doesn’t.

“Shit. Can you come inside? I mean—come in.”

She’s still thinking about you, and it’s admittedly cute. You love how unabashedly blunt—and lewd—she is when she’s drunk. You give her the benefit of the doubt and reenter the room.

Yuqi realizes the messy state she and her bedroom are in when you turn on the lights. Cheeks puffed and red from embarrassment, she tries to hop off the mattress, only to stumble to the floor on her fours. 

“I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t think you’d—” 

“Hey hey, it’s fine.” You grab her off the floor and sit her on the bed. “Don’t apologize. I’ll get some water; stay here and rest.”

Your eyes are meeting, hers twinkling. In those few, crucial moments, right when you’re about to leave, you feel an irresistible tug pulling you closer to each other.

Suddenly, Yuqi pulls you in by the shirt for a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips taste like actual whisky and vodka, indicating what she drank earlier that night. Yet they feel so lush, so sweet, filled with so much passion. You don’t bother trying; you fold to your lust, submit to her desire. You sink onto the bed together, never breaking apart, even for a second. Next thing you know, her hands are all over your body, roaming your chest, coiled around your neck, removing the shirt over your head to be tossed aside and completely forgotten.

Yet there’s still some resistance. Despite making the first move, she pulls back, and you do so in return. You’re hovering on top of her—an unexpected but welcome position to be in. 

“I didn’t know what got me there. I’m sorry. I just felt this sudden need to kiss you and—”

You shut her up by diving in and kissing her again, pinning Yuqi down to the mattress—the very thing that got you into this position to begin with. With you all over her, she’s able to shed the rest of your clothes: first the slacks, followed by your boxers. She mewls at the sensation of your hard cock pressed against her slit, and it’s beyond what her imagination can describe. It’s electrifying. And God, you know you’re no better than her, but you just want to fuck her right then and there, give her everything she wants without a second thought. 

Grabbing you by the scalp, she rips your lips off her chin as you’re making your way down her neck. “Not yet. Nuh uh.” She pulls you into yet another kiss, as if you’re oxygen—and in a way, it’s appropriate: you’re breathing new life into her. “Did I ever tell you that you were a good kisser?”

“Not at all,” you tell her, gently shaking your head. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

“Half bad?” Yuqi raises a sharp eyebrow, seemingly offended by your backhanded compliment. A dangerous smirk forms on her lips. “Says the one who was watching me the entire time—”

“You knew?” There’s a heightened sense of panic in your voice. “I thought  you were—”

“Shhh.” She kisses you, pulls you into a warm cuddle atop her. Slender legs wrapped around your hips, she follows: “Less talk, more lovemaking.”

And more lovemaking you do. You grow more easily acquainted with her lips than with her personality, and you barely know them: it’s only been a few minutes. Even though it’s a Thursday, the weekend feels like a lifetime away. You should be up five hours from now; you have the alarm preset and everything. But Yuqi’s getting in your way again, as she always has, and this won’t certainly be the last. She’s so hypnotic, so alluring, you find yourself unable to slip away, no matter how hard you try.

You find that it’s easier to give in than to struggle aimlessly. 

It’s effortless to get your fingers pressed inside her sopping core, brushing along sensitive, wet ridges of skin, where thoughts of you manifested into thin, delicate strokes. Her moans ring against your ears in varying pitches, each with a distinct, pulsing plea of satisfaction. Keep going, she tells you, and you follow without complaint. All this while you leave a soft path of bite marks down her neck and collarbones, until you reach her petite chest.

And fuck, you just go down on Yuqi. Sucking on her breasts like you’re in the middle of an oasis in the desert. She goes wild. Tossing, turning, trembling. You can feel her body close on you, wanting to take you in and suffocate you. The bed is creaking, growing strikingly more intense, turbulent. All this spurring you on, making you more reckless, more daring with her. 

“Mmmmm—fuck!” She lets out a hum of desperation, her hot, shaky breath fogging on your skin. You become an intertwined labyrinth of limbs that fit together, where you have no idea where it begins and where it ends. Your fingers vanish between her legs, still working tirelessly, perfectly snug around her pussy even when crushed between the weight of her thighs.

Eventually, you find yourself staring aimlessly at Yuqi. She’s so beautiful, and you’re punching yourself mentally, wondering why it took so long to come to this conclusion. Even when she’s not rocking the trendy hair color of the week and her face is a canvas for every conceivable makeup and filter, she’s naturally pretty. Especially now, completely bare—and with nothing but an exasperated, satisfied look of inebriated, lust filled bliss.

You find the light peeking from the living room, casting a shadow between your tangled legs. She’s dripping at her core, showering your fingers with a fresh flow of sheen, messing up the sheets even further if that’s even possible. They’re beyond saving at this point, and so are you. 

Rolling to her side, Yuqi wraps her arm around you, as if enticing you to stay. You shouldn’t have done this, but it’s too late: there’s no going back. You’re too lazy to close the door, and you have the girl you previously never gave a second look rubbing lazy circles on your stomach with her coated nails. Her hair draped all over your arm and shoulder, her eyes looking up at yours, acting all soft and innocent—

Until she starts talking again. “It wouldn’t be complete unless you cum inside me, wouldn’t it?”

The difference between her body language and her lips is night and day. Right then and there, you immediately recognize that there’s no other way this night will end. How your body moves at her will, how you immediately roll on top of her, as if it’s programmed to follow her every command. You have her legs pressed up and spread wide, her knees bent, lining your aching cock against the wet slit of her cunt. All while her features twist into a sickening, slimy grin in the slim shape of a lip bite. The fire, the desire—it’s still as bright as ever. 

And to make sure you aren’t second guessing the idea, her arms are coiled around your neck, her hands grabbing at your hair, pressing on your nape. Yuqi wants you—needs you—to fuck her silly; it’s the only way she can be satiated.

You watch Yuqi’s expression contort from anxious to messy, and the feeling is mutual. You slip in, slow and delicate, going against her instruction, and you almost lose it at the first stroke. The deep, guttural moan you make echoes throughout the entire apartment, while her firm walls pulse against your cock. It’s hot, it’s tense, it’s suffocating. 

“Shit, shit, shit—” you mutter, gently trying to pull back, but the fiery sensation burns, scratches away at your psyche, at your loins. “So—fucking—tight—Yuqi—fuck.”

“C’mon. Fuck me. Fuck me now.” She kisses your ear, her legs pounding against your hips, demanding you to move. There’s some serious intent behind her tone, a seamless blend of demand and impatience. “Use that big cock—mmm!”

You can only groan in response as you thrust back in deep, her grip on your body tighter than ever. And it’s more than just her cunt; she’s clinging onto you for dear life.

It hardly matters when you’re leaving sore, red marks on her skin or ripping through the blankets. It hardly matters when Yuqi can barely breathe. It hardly matters when you’re so loud that everyone can hear you. What’s important is you’re fucking her—and you’re fucking her hard. You both love the filthiness to it. There’s no rhythm, no pace, no flow; it’s one slow deep thrust, followed by a fast pump into her tight, inviting cunt. You become comfortable; you take her like she’s meant to be used.

And Yuqi takes your cock so fucking well. Bounces against every stroke with ease, as if the feeling is second nature to her. Knowing her, she’s probably been in this position more than you’d want to know or hear. You don’t really care about that for now. Even after what seems to be an endless cascade of orgasms, she’s still keening, still needy, still soaking wet that it’s alarming. Her back arches, melts deep into the cushion. She still wants more.

“So—fucking—good—more—need—fuck—”

The only noise you need is the mesh of your flesh slapping against hers, bouncing against her sharp cries of pain and pleasure. Reaching into the deepest, most sensitive parts of her pussy with your cock, this violent shudder rocks both you and Yuqi to your core. With each drag, more of her slick coats your shaft, and the easier you get access to her smothering heat. You can’t find the will to stop, not that you ever want to; she feels so warm, so inviting, so sloppy sounding to the ears that it’s driving you just as crazy as her.

It’s also driving you wild why it took you this long to fuck her—use her—like this. If you had known, you would have cared sooner. You’d have some leverage when it came to negotiations. A body like hers is too good not to have on speed dial.

Right now, it’s the least of your concerns. Not when you’re pounding a tight body like Yuqi’s so freely, hearing her demand to fuck her harder, like your life’s depending on it. Better late than never.

And it’s for the best that the moment happens later rather than sooner. She cums. Cums again. Eventually you’ve stopped counting, because there’s no point. The mere thought of you restarts the cycle, and your touch accelerates the process. The clutch of her cunt is too overwhelming to avoid at this point; it’s all but directly telling you to fill her, to unload all that pent up tension and need into her. The thought never bubbled up in your head even once; the idea of you and Yuqi with a child together. You never really questioned it. She goes out often, probably gets fucked multiple times in one night if she’s with willing company. She probably knew you’d walk in on her; hell, she’s probably got this whole thing planned out and Minnie is one of her accomplices. Maybe the entire time, she’s been yearning for you, because you’ve never heard her this passionate, this loud, this filthy in your life, even at her most inebriated.

“Inside me. Please cum inside me. I’m safe, don’t worry,” she whispers, as if she’s reading through your mind, reassuring you from your doubts. Her hand is palming your back, as if to line you straight so your cock directly hits her sweet spot. She sounds so pretty, it’s almost impossible to resist.

“Gonna cum,” you tell her, voice going hoarse, rasp, and she nods immediately in return, reinforcing the notion. She’s focused her effort on holding on, her legs tightly wrapped around your waist, her arms coiled around your neck, subtly pushing you against her hips. 

“This—pussy—so—fucking—God,” you mindlessly utter, averting her doe eyed gaze, desperate to cling to the last of your resolve as it quickly dissolves with each thrust. You’re on borrowed time and it’s quickly slipping away. Yuqi is tilting your face down to her, to her airy breaths, to her fluttering eyelids, to her passionate expression as you fuck her, pushing you over the edge. “Holy fuck, Yuqi—”

Yuqi’s lips part like a flower in bloom, and it’s a pretty sight. Yet it’s not enough of a distraction to keep everything from falling into place.

And God, it fucking burns. 

You swallow hard, but are unable to keep that groan suppressed. Your hips meet her halfway, your cock comfortably buried deep in her heat, and that’s where you come undone. Yuqi digs deep into your skin as it fills her—your cum—and she goes frozen at that moment. It’s a quiet, tense flash of silence. Afterward, she finally breaks. Cries out this deafening whine, her grip all over you loosening, time eventually catching up to her. 

She lays beneath you, completely limp, but her body remains trembling, shaking, seizing. You don’t find the strength to drag your cock from her heat; the feeling lingers. Endless ropes of cum gushing into her womb, emptying yourself, just as she wanted. Then you pull out, agonizingly slow, and more viscous slick gushes from her core. 

You feel guilty for that poor patch of soaked linen between her legs. It’s about as ruined as a collapsed power plant.

There’s little need for Yuqi to beg you to stay. The climax saps whatever energy you had left. You end up slumping flat on your belly beside her, both of you bathed in the afterglow of sex, exhausted from an already long day, too worn out to make another sound. And when you’re tired, any bed, no matter how messy it may be, is a comfortable bed.

—————

You already expected the scene at the breakfast table to be awkward.

And it was.

It isn’t until Yuqi calls you out standing at the doorway of her room that you realize you’ve been shooting a thousand yard stare the whole time. She waves at you, her cheeks red, flustered, chuckling. “Good morning to you, I guess. Put something on. I don’t wanna drink coffee while looking at someone’s dick. It’s gross.”

This time you’re the one unbecoming, completely in the nude while she got herself into some pajamas. Despite that, you hardly feel any guilt or shame, like this is a normal occurrence in the household. So you scramble to your room and get appropriately dressed. A look at the time and it’s already 15 past ten in the morning, an hour later than when you normally start work. Even more unusual is the absence of the laptop. It’s just Yuqi and her coffee.

Sitting opposite Yuqi, today seems a bit more tense than normal, and you can guess the reason why. She knows it, too. Neither of you are willing to break the ice, only shooting occasional glares at each other while sipping on coffee and scrolling through your phones.

“So, Yuqi.”

The words slip from your mouth, accidental, nearly silent. They follow the mild screech of the chair she sits on. When you meet eye to eye, she asks what’s up. What's on your mind? There’s a sudden barrier in your throat. You have a vague idea of what to say, but not the power to speak them. 

“About last night—”

Her lack of response is unnerving. The visible curiosity, the probable apathy. You and her possibly sharing the same sentiment: a feeling of regret. 

“I—I just wanted to say sorry. For last night. I should have just—”

“Sorry for what?”

You suddenly stop. This is not the expected reaction; it’s the complete opposite. A moment where you face the consequences of your actions.

Yuqi stands up and walks over to your side, beaming from ear to ear. “What we did last night was—fucking amazing. Don’t feel bad. If anything, I should feel bad because I didn’t tip you off sooner. We could have done so much more.”

You don’t pick up on the implication right away. It’s all strange, uncharted territory. Your previous flings were simple one-and-dones: a night of reckless, frivolous fun. Short, but fun nonetheless. They would disappear in the morning, never to be seen again.

“I didn’t think you’d walk through that door, especially since it was three in the morning,” says Yuqi, casual, running her fingers through your hair. “I got a bit too silly, as usual, but there’s a good reason for it.”

“And that is?”

“I got a job!” Yuqi’s gripping to your shoulder, the only thing keeping her from jumping for joy. “I got a job at the cafe with the pretty lady. I start on Monday.”

It’s certainly a cause for celebration. You can’t help but root and smile for her, caressing her hands. “Well, damn. Congratulations.”

“Yeah!” Yuqi’s wrapped you in a rather heartwarming embrace that you willingly fold into. “I had the interview yesterday, so I needed to lock in. Needed to be alone. Then I got accepted after, so I went and bought some drinks to celebrate.”

That doesn’t surprise you one bit. You’re just thrilled that she’s finally getting somewhere.

“So—does that mean I can kick you out once you get your first paycheck?” you ask her.

“I guess so. But—” Yuqi pauses, tilts your chin on an incline. She’s warm, radiant, pretty. She doesn’t care that you’ve worded yourself poorly and you’re taking it back; she’s still riding off the high from yesterday. You’re already counting the days before she leaves, and admittedly, you’ll miss that sight. “I’m gonna miss staying with you. Thanks for having my back when I needed it. I honestly don’t know how I will ever repay you.”

She tops it up with a quick peck on your lips. It’s all over your face, etched completely in red. The devilish grin. 

“I think I know exactly how.”

And that’s all that needed to be said.

Before you know it, you’re right back at square one: clothes scattered everywhere on the floor, her body pressed on the mattress, flat on her belly, your cock stretching her pussy out as you fuck her mindlessly from behind. This time in the comfort of your own bedroom.

All the more reason for you two to stay together.

—————

(A/N: fucksorryforgoingonanotherhiatusfuckfuckfuck—)

(Okay, but I really do wanna apologize for going on yet another unannounced hiatus. Final weeks of the semester were hell, then I was on vacation the week I promised this fic would be released (I'm basically the LeBron James of K-smut when it comes to lying at this point), not to mention a health scare courtesy of my mother. Some very hard times have hit me lately, so my mind wasn't 100%. Nevertheless, I am still standing (shoutout Elton John). Lots of free time throughout June and July, so hopefully nothing bad happens ISTG lemme have some peace for once and let me fucking write goddammit—)

(In non-personal news, Yuqi's solo was very fun and she's getting on that Yena level of bias where she's the perfect blend of cute and hot. Then she went pink recently and that made me :pphurt: Sort of a feel out fic before I *finally* finish these commissions over the coming weeks, thank you for reading!)

[pigeonpeach]

Father’s weakness

Aka another mom figure x arlecchino!

Warnings: blood, injury to reader, stitches,

A/n: part of this was written before her story quest, but i wanted to get something out after weeks of nothing. Tryna feed my arlecchino fans out there

You hadn’t ever fought in your life. You were not a fighter by any means. But when one of the city mechas malfunctioned and started to target the very child you were with, something in you snapped. Before you could think you were struggling against a metallic arm, blood dripping from your hands as you had stopped the blad with your palm. In that instance all pain was numb, your body didn’t exist but your determination to protect the very helpless and small child did, it overrides your weakness as you had successfully stopped it. The child in question immediately screaming for help.

“I don’t want to leave you! No I won’t leave you again mommy!” She cried, her mother had been murdered, that’s why she was a orphan, you could only imagine how horrific it was for her.

“Celia you have to run! I’ll be fine!” You said, lying through your damn teeth. The machine tried to overpower you, your body was pushed back as you tried to wrestle the sword from its hand.

Finally the guards, the human ones arrived. A gunshot aired as the mecha turned its attention to far more dangerous agressors and withdrew its sword to fight them instead. Leaving you to fall to the floor, injured and awkwardly comforting Celia as she immediately tried to drag you back to the house of hearth.

“I can’t really say you’re a fool. There wasn’t exactly any better alternative in that situation.” Your coworker said. You winced as she stitched the gash in your hands. There wasn’t much time to get a pain killer so you bore it through your teeth. “But Alrecchino will certainly be unhappy with the guardes. I truly don’t understand why it picked on you.”

“Just.. keep scolding me or something. Its easier to forget the pain.” You whispered. The children were hysterical outside. You, the favorite caretaker, had been greatly injured. Of course they were upset, these are orphans. You could hear the older agents trying to soothe the younglings outside.

“Arlecchino won’t be pleased. Lets just hope her anger will be directed towards the engineers.”

“Likely. I didn’t do anything against the code, infact Its well within my job description to protect the children if needed. I may have lied about my capabilities on that though…” you hissed. Now without the adrenaline did everything fucking hurt. The antiseptic in your wounds, the bruises, the needle actively piercing your skin, it fucking hurt. But you had to suck it up, otherwise the children would meltdown into utter chaos believing their mother was dying.

“Surely you know that she.. values you in some way. I was just saying that she may be particularly pissed. You are her favorite.”

“Wait what? I’m the kids favorite, that’s no secret, but hers? Are you sure?” You asked skeptically. Although Clarice had been quite old, having worked for the previous knave and well into her 50s, you didn’t think she had a eye for those details.

“It doesn’t take a expert. But you should be more careful.”

“And what? Let the machines murder the kids I’m designated to protect? No! I did nothing wrong! I don’t care if I destroyed or damaged that machine. I’d sooner punch the Iudex myself then let any of those kids get harmed on my watch.” You said defensively.

“Yes I understand. There. You’re done. Now I’ll wrap it so the kids don’t worry to much. Now please go out there so the kids don’t start mauling each other.” Clarice groaned. You took your hand, it wasn’t pretty, you certainly couldn’t let the kids see that kind of wound when they’re so young.

“Mom! Mom!” The children only became more rowdy when you left through the door.

“Back up now! You’re all going to crush each other!” You said sternly. Only about half seemed to listen, you had to repeat yourself a few times before they relaxed. “I’m okay children. I’m just a little hurt, I’ll live okay?” You flipped your hands around to showcase the bandages, hoping they’d relax. They did but you could still see the worry. Even the older children seemed concerned. “Please return to what you were doing now, all is well. No one is dying or leaving okay?” You said. Slowly they dispersed. If only because their worries had been addressed. But you knew it didn’t fully do so. But at least now you could walk down the halls. You sighed as you walked towards the entrance, seeing a few guards.

“You won’t take our mommy!” One kid said immediately latching onto your leg. You patted his head.

“This isn’t a arrest. In fact we just wanted to get a report from you as to what happened. We understand you left the scene almost Immediately yes?” The officer in question seemed suspicious of you. As if you had something to benefit from the situation. ‘Great he’s going to find anything to twist into suspicion’

“Sir I hope you understand that now is not the the time for interviews. I have just been patched up and I am still on the clock, I have a big responsibility right now. I’ll be happy to come to your olace for a official statement but now is not the time. Now please leave before the children get worried even more so.”

“Ma’am we have to get your point of view to better understand-“

“I was taking one of the children for icecream because she had been very good and it was her birthday. That mecha started randomly attacking people and I jumped in to save her. That is all you are getting at this hour, now please step outside.” You said, you didn’t trust this officer. Just his eyes alone were shifty, plotting, something wasn’t right with him and you weren’t going to risk it,

“Ma-am do not put your hands on me.”

“I am very much not touching you right now. Am i not allowed to exist in the air nearby you? Let me repeat myself, i will go to the palais to give my statement once I’m clocked out. You however need to get out.” Normally you were polite and understanding, the epitome of grace and manners. But you almost died today so you didn’t feel intimidated by the cops ad you had previously been.

“May I at least speak to the child?”

“I will not repeat myself sir, get. Out. We will give our statement later.” You said pointing to the door. He wrote something down which annoyed you greatly.

“Alright, you don’t have to be so rude. I’ll leave. We expect your testimony soon.” He said. You frowned even more so.

“What a bitch.” A child said.

“Do not use that language Belle.” You sighed.

“Arlecchino was supposed to be back by now, but I believe she’s having a strong word with the guards right now.” Lynette explained. From the way her tail swished you could sense she was alarmed. “Many people are afraid of the mechas right now. Apparently they’ve been temporarily recalled. Although the current belief is that one of the wild ones managed to sneak in without suspicion. But its only a theory for now. The important thing is you are safe.” Despite her stoic face you could see both her and Lyney needed reassurance of your wellbeing. Like the many children who were now on edge.

“I am safe. A doctor came by to inspect my injuries and said that I should be fine. I’m likely s little anemic is all. For now I can’t do any heavy lifting or intensive jobs.” You explained. Lyney stiffened.

“That shouldn’t be a issue, Freminet and I would be more than willing to help you with anything.” He offered. You smiled trying to reassure the twins of your health.

“That is sweet but you two have your own lives now. But if you have the time to I wouldn’t complain. Just don’t go against your father’s orders just for me okay. I don’t want anyone getting into trouble.”

“That’s reasonable enough. Will you still be working?” Lynette asked.

“Well like you said, Arlecchino isn’t home yet so I’d have to discuss that with her. But likely yes. I have already used up my sick days for the month.” You smiled.

“No I’m sure she’d let you rest at least!” Lyney said.

“I’m glad you care Lyney but it’s up to your Father to decide. Besides I’m still kicking. I’ll be fine.”

“Father did tell us to accompany you for now. How is Celine right now?”

“She had a panic attack and had to be kicked out of the nursing station. But she’s uninjured and I’ve spent time to calm her down. Unfortunately she didn’t get to finish her icecream.” You joked. They didn’t seem to enjoy your humor.

“We can get her some ourselves. You just relax for now.” He said. You sighed.

“Miss Alrecchino.” You bowed as she entered the room. She however seemed anything but normal. She held your face forcing you to look at her and tilting it, as if checking for any injuries.

“How are you feeling.” Her tone was different. She sounded riled and angry. You dreaded seeing this side of her.

“I’m just a little weak right now. My palms hurt quite badly but I’ll be fine.” You said. She seemed unpleased.

“She didn’t even use painkillers..” she said under her breath. “You should rest. Bandage the wound and check in with the doctor, ill ask the others to lighten your workload for the time being. Be cautious from now on.”

“Y-yes.” You bowed as you quickly exited, unsure if you had heard the entire conversation properly.

And that was it. Arlecchino despite her cold and unfeeling demeanor, everyone else seemed convinced she had a fondness for you. But even if she did you could never see it in her eyes. Her eyes looked somehow dull and sharp, dangerous maybe a better term. Sometimes they soften, the light would reflect in them but her lips hardly ever curved then. It was like she never smiled with her eyes but never smiled when her eyes lit up. But you had a job to do, you had to help the kids, you could ponder arlecchino’s emotions later.

[carlsangel]

LET ME MAKE IT UP TO YOU (PART ONE)

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you and carl have an argument and he makes it up to you.)

tags: SMUT!!! p in v, RIDINGGGGG BABYYYY, unprotected sex (be safe!)

masterlist here!

read part two!

i wrote this so i could get motivated to write again, it’s the first fic i’ve written that wasn’t requested in a long ass time, so this one’s just an idea from me and a fic for myself i hope u like!!!

Carl was always telling you that you needed to be safe outside the walls. He always told you if you were to go on a run, the only people you should go with was Daryl or Glenn. So, when he told you he couldn’t go on a woods date because he’d be going out for supplies with the two of them, you wanted to go with. But he still refused.

“I don’t understand, I thought you said it was fine if Glenn and Daryl took me, you said they’re the most reliable. We were supposed to go to the woods anyway…” You reason, following him through the house as he gathered his belongings. “We can go on the date tomorrow, anyway this time’s different. We’re going to the store on Miller street, the last time the guys went, it was filled with walkers.” He makes his way out of your guys’ room and down the hall. “Well why’re you going then? I don’t want you to.”

He stops just before the stairs and he sighs, turning around to look at you intently. “It’s just how it is, okay? I don’t want to have to worry about you out there, and you definitely don’t have to worry about me.” He explains. You’re sort of annoyed at the fact he thinks he has to take care of you. He continues down the steps and you follow after. “You don’t have to worry about me, I don’t understand. You’re being quite the hypocrite.” You refute. He shakes his head and grabs his bag before heading towards the door.

“Seriously Carl, what the fuck?” He places his hand on the handle and turns to you. “I’ll see you at eight.” He opens the door and leaves, shutting the door behind him.

You stayed home the whole day, quite pissed to say the least. You babysat Judith, which didn’t bother you at all but you’d rather have gone with him. You felt worried, not to mention left out. By the time they came home, you were sitting on the floor in the living room with Judith, playing with her toys. “Here, bug, this one has jingles.” You shake the toy in front of her and she yawns, grabbing it but dropping it. You hear the front door open and you see Carl and Daryl walking through the door. AKA your signal to get Judith up to bed.

You stand up and pull Judith up as well, letting her stand on your feet as you take slow steps towards the stairs. They both acknowledge you and Carl’s the first to say something. “Hey, how was babysitting?” He asks, noticing how focused you are on keeping Judith on your feet. “It was fun. We gotta go to bed, don’t we Judith?” You reply dismissively, Daryl and Carl share a knowing look while you head up the stairs.

You get Judith changed and in her crib, you exit and closer her door quietly before turning to be met with Carl just standing there. “Oh sh-” You put your hand over your heart and he sort of giggles at you. “Jesus christ make a noise or something.” You roll your eyes and walk down the hall and he follows after. “I’m alive, see? The run was a breeze.”

He tries his best to make you realize you were wrong about not wanting him to go out. “Yeah no shit, I see that but that doesn’t make the whole situation any less frustrating.” You retort. He closes the door behind you guys and you sit on the bed, kicking your boots off your feet and he does the same. “I was left here alone, not to mention you ditched our date.” You stand up to start changing and he watches you from the bed. “I know, and I’m sorry I just- It seemed like the best way for me to get practice with knives. I’m still not the best since…my eye.” He replies quietly. You turn from the dresser to look at him.

Well you just feel bad now. “Shit I just feel sort of selfish…I’m sorry.” You sort of sympathize with him and walk over to run your hand through his hair. “Don’t worry. I get it, probably more than anyone.” He holds the sides of your thighs, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth over them as he looks up at you. “But, if you wanna make it up to me, and if you’d let me make it up to you…I can think of somethin we could do.”

Within the next couple minutes you’re both stripped of your clothes, Carl is sitting back against the pillows while you’re on his lap. He has your tit in his mouth, his eyes shut, just enjoying the feeling of your nipple against his tongue. He moans against your skin and your hand goes up to tug on his hair a bit. He pulls away from your chest to look up at you breathlessly. “Please I need to feel you.”

You smile and adjust your position on his lap, slowly sinking onto his dick. The both of you moan at the feeling, he leans his head against your chest as he feels your heat surround him. His hands go to your hips, yours go to his shoulders to steady yourself. He guides your hips back and forth, only making the pace quicker. “Oh fuck you drive me insane.” He mumbles into your chest, his eyes half lidded and his grip on your hips getting tighter.

You can feel him start to buck his hips upwards, pushing his dick farther into you. You lean on him a bit, resting your weight on your knees as you straddle him, allowing him to thrust up even more. He rests his hands on your waist and looks up at you, watching as your eyes roll back into your head at the pleasure. He slows a bit and you pull away to lean back on your hands, his cock still penetrating you while you steady yourself. This put your body on display, he could see everything.

You start to move yourself back and forth, practically fucking yourself on him. Carl’s eyes go wide at the way you grind on him, he could cum from the sight alone. And he almost did. “Fuck- m’gonna-” He said shakily. You’re breathing heavy, the feeling leaves you unable to speak and Carl leans forward to rub your clit with his thumb. That basically sends you over the edge and you cum, moaning quite loudly. The feeling of you clenching around him added on top of your moans causes Carl’s orgasm to follow shortly after.

A couple of minutes went by and you were cuddled together in bed, he’d cleaned you up and pulled your clothes back on for you. You loved aftercare with him, he was always the sweetest. The two of you soon fell asleep in the comfort of each other’s arms.

─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───

The next morning, you had perimeter watch so Carl woke up early to make you breakfast. Or try at least, he made you eggs and selected some fruit for you to eat before leaving. He sat and talked with you, making you laugh before leaving for work. You did a ton of different jobs at Alexandria, perimeter watch was your least favorite. You’d even faked having a bad headache one time to get out of it.

So, you stood there watching carefully when you hear a voice from the bottom of the post. It was Glenn. You peak your head over. “Can I come up?” He asks. “Yeah go for it.” You step back and continue to watch around the gates while you waited for him to climb up. Once he did, he looked at you and sort of laughed awkwardly. He was being weird but he’s always sort of like that so you didn’t pay any mind to it. “Did you need something?” Your focus is still on the scenery in front of you as you speak.

“Uhh…yeah there was sort of something I need to tell you about the run yesterday.” He was nervous and it was evident with his tone. You turn to him, your eyebrows furrowing a tad. “Okay..explain.” He nods and swallows hard. “Just- don’t get angry okay? I mean I’m not really meant to be saying anything but I feel horrible to keep it from you and-”

“Oh my god please just spit it out.” You cut him off. “Right. Yesterday Carl had a close call with a walker, it basically tackled him and was really close to just-” He stops for a moment but continues. “It almost bit his face off. Daryl saved him last second when I’d got close enough to hear their conversation…I guess they didn’t see me, they made an agreement to keep it from you. Not to tell you about it.” He explained, somewhat ashamed.

You stop to think. You felt shitty about it all, for sure. He’d gotten pissy at you about wanting to go, made you feel bad for not wanting him to go, and used the excuse of his eye. He told you it all went well. He lied to your face, then fucked you after.

a/n: part two is coming soon :)

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @evilnight07 @ilikestrawberriesandwomen

[brokenmutations]

Angry Little Wolverines

Logan Howlett • She/Her Pronouns • Mutant!Reader [Speak to Animals/Mind Reader for Animals] • Have you even seen a Wolverine before? • SFW • TW: Minor injuries

“Okay, you’re called the Wolverine. Have you ever seen one before?” Y/N scoffs when questioning Logan as he was left speechless given it was indeed true. He’s never seen one before. “Jeez, Logan! You can’t take their whole style and not know what they look like”

“I didn’t name myself! How the fuck am I supposed to instantly know what they look like?”

“You lose your memory. Find out you’re named Wolverine…you weren’t curious?”

All the man did was shrug to such, making his partner scoff at him again before heading toward the garages promoting him to quickly follow in confusion.

“Where are we going?”

“To the worse place in the world” Y/N snatches the keys to his truck off the hook. “The zoo”

“How is that—-“ Logan stopped himself when she whipped her head quickly back at him in anger. “Right. Animal captivity. But why go if you hate it there so much?”

“Because I’m not driving all the way to western Canada to find wolverines in their natural habitats. Plus…”

“We ain’t doing a prison break. The cops are still pissed last time”

“UGH fine” Y/N sighs, opening the drivers side and letting herself in while Logan got in on his side.

The drive was pretty quick given Y/N went on and on about wolverine facts.

Did you know that the scientific name for wolverines is Gulo gulo and it comes from the Latin word glutton?

They average around a weight of 30-50 pounds and can take on grizzlies!

Wolverines chirp and coo at their young maybe that’s why you have a softer tone with Marie compared to everyone else

Not a part of the wolves family! Weasels actually

And she went on and on, Logan found himself irked in the beginning but eventually ease into the comforting rambling that came from Y/N about the creature.

Once they arrived at the zoo, Y/N couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed when they arrived given she could hear everything the animals were talking about. More specifically what they were complaining about. Logan expected to go straight to the wolverines but stuck by Y/N as she went to every animal talking to them to make them feel a bit better.

That stupid child wouldn’t stop tapping the viewing glass! The lioness roared at Y/N from the exposed area of the enclosure as she instantly turned to glare at said kid only for Logan to block her gaze.

“Are you going to fight a kid?”

“I will if I must!”

“Fight the parents instead, sweetheart. But also let’s not get kicked out of the zoo before we see this animal that shares my name”

Your boyfriend is the Wolverine? Another lioness came up to her friend on the perch, chirping at Y/N as she nods. Resulting in a huff from the lioness. Do you know what the exhibit has?

That brought a bit of anxiety to Y/N as her tensed posture made Logan instantly wrap an arm around her shoulders to ease some of it.

Even if the worry was toward nothing once it revealed the few signs at the wolverines enclosure that “There’s a hero named after us” and has images of Logan that he didn’t even know was taken of him.

“Least the rest of the world knows what wolverines are, Wolverine”

Logan scoffs as he watches Y/N approach the railing, she leans over to find a few wolverines huddled around something.

Need to escape

Need to escape

Baby doesn’t deserve this

Baby needs to escape

Let’s just say, Logan shouldn’t have turned away when he heard some bird cawing in a different part of the zoo.

“Well now I know what they look like and I should change my name”

“No! You’re a hero to them too yknow” Y/N gave him a soft smile as she sits in the passengers seat this time around, holding her chest for a moment that concerned Logan until it started to move. “What?”

“…You gotta stop reading their minds”

“What are you even talking about?!”

Logan squints at her leaning back in his seat crossing his arms. “They have a baby, a baby doesn’t deserve to live in captivity!” He repeats her words back at her, same words she uttered when they left the enclosure and INSTANTLY left the zoo. “Charles isn’t going to let you keep it”

“Well he can argue with me til he’s blue in the face!” Y/N opened the first few buttons of the flannel she wore to reveal the wolverine cub. “You can’t blame me!”

“This is kidnapping!”

“Not when the parents consented and helped me get the baby!”

“HOW DID YOU EVEN GET THE CUB OUT?!”

Angy The small cub started to growl at Logan, only for the man to growl back resulting in the baby hiding in her shirt.

“DONT BE MEAN TO OUR BABY!”

Logan face palms to such, but to her surprise, he started the car and started the drive back to the mansion.

Someone else can argue with her about whether to keep it or not…and to make sure zoo security doesn’t ban her.

[bellobambino]

"Mangia."

A Luigi Mangione Fluff Piece

The pov for this piece is from an unnamed girl, something more than friends.

Summary: Didja eat? lol. Luigi is italian, so he's a feeder. Late night Jersey diner run with LuLu.

586w

-----

Luigi and I always end up in this exact booth when it’s late, we’ve run out of shit to do, but we don’t want the night to end. Lakeside Diner is the bee’s knees in North Jersey. Luigi’s dad is friends with the owner, and they go way back.

Luigi is sitting across from me, arms folded, with a look on his face that tells me his gears are turning. I know what’s coming.

“Have you consumed anything other than coffee in the past 24 hours?” He nods at my mug, his eyes dark and accusing.

“Yeah,” I say, slowly tearing apart the paper sleeve to my straw. “I had some fruit earlier.” I lie.

He gives me a tired, incredulous look. He knows me. He can always tell when I’m lying, and that’s always pissed me off. I can’t get anything past him. But he’s also the only person who seems to get me—really see me.

“What?” I ask dryly.

“Fruit,” he responds as if it personally offends him. “I’ve been with you all day. How did you slip fruit by me without me noticing?”

I half-ass a shrug, hoping he’ll lose interest and drop it. But this is Luigi, and Luigi doesn’t drop anything. Never has.

He reaches for the menus we haven’t touched and starts flipping through them with the look of a single dad trying to feed a picky toddler. “Are you in the mood for fries or something more like grilled cheese?”

Why is he giving me the illusion of choice? “I’m not hungry,” I try.

Don’t think he even hears me. “This place has great cole slaw. Have you tried it?”

“Cole slaw? No. Lu, it’s two in the morning. I’m fine with the decaf.” I try to say it kindly because he’s trying. I wish he wouldn’t, but he’s a man compelled.

He nods, still not looking at me, and flips the page. “They’ve got lots of omelette options,” he says, pointing at a picture with complete earnestness, waiting for my response.

He’s so perfect, I hate him. “Thank you, Luigi. I’m just not hungry.” I try to sound sincere and convincing.

But Luigi is impossible. The man has never dropped an argument in his life. He sees a problem he can fix, and he won’t stop until it’s solved. Right now, I’m his problem.

He stands up and heads to the pastry case.

Oh no.

I try to turn around and wave him off, but he’s deliberately ignoring me at the counter. I lean back in the booth, defeated.

My stomach growls. Goddammit.

A minute later, he comes back with a chocolate-dipped almond horn and sets it in front of me without ceremony. I stare at it. It’s glossy, gorgeous, massive. He knows me too well.

“Mangia,” he says.

I sigh because I’m conceding this one for the sake of our relationship. I break off a piece and take a bite. It’s dense, chewy, and perfect. Much like Luigi himself. I would throw myself in front of a bus for him.

He’s chuffed, his toothy grin lighting up his whole face, his eyes crinkling under the wattage of his pleased smile. He must think he’s really saved the day.

I pick up my phone to look at anything other than his victorious face. He leans back, closes his eyes, and sighs. Success for Luigi.

If my world went to hell, he’d be the first one to grab me an almond horn. And I’d eat it every time.

[unhingedangstaddict]

The bucktommy mpreg brainrot is so real wtf. I never thought in a million years I'd write an mpreg fic and well,,,

Here's my latest wip

Tommy was sitting on the bathroom floor next to the toliet again, crying for no reason again. He was so sick of the spontaneous crying and worse he didn’t even know why he was crying. Tommy had cried after the break-up, but he’d mostly stopped after two-ish weeks. He was sick of feeling the way he’d felt all week- horrifically nauseous and tired no matter how much he slept.

Tommy was so caught up in his wallowing and his crying that he didn’t hear Lucy enter the house, didn’t notice her standing in the doorway to the ensuite. He only noticed her when she set a plastic bag from a drug store down at his feet.

Tommy sniffled and looked up at Lucy. “I’m starting to regret giving you a key.” He wiped the tears off his cheeks.

“Is it really so terrible having someone look out for you?” Lucy crossed her arms.

Tommy was quiet.

“Thought so.” Lucy nodded.

Tommy curiously reached for the bag and looked inside.

“First time ever for me, the women's version of something was cheaper than the mens version. It’s the exact same thing, just different colored packaging.” Lucy said nonchalantly.

Tommy hardly registered what Lucy was saying as he plucked the box out of the bag. A three pack of pregnancy tests. In an instant it felt like his world had been flipped on it’s axis.

There was no way this was actually happening, but if he was- if Lucy was right about this, it would make sense. The headaches, the fatigue, the random crying, the nausea and vomiting- morning sickness. Now that Tommy thought about it, it seemed like his sense of smell had maybe been heightened the last week or so too.

“If I’m way out of line here Tommy, just tell me, it’s fine. I’ll keep ‘em for next time I have a scare.” Lucy offered.

Tommy swallowed thickly. His mind and heart were racing. This couldn’t be happening.

“Tommy?” Lucy prompted.

“I don’t know.” Tommy said quietly. Clearly Lucy had been thinking about this at least since they were on the phone not that long ago. Her suggestion to drink something made even more sense now. Tommy couldn’t believe this was his life.

“What- what do you mean you don’t know?” Lucy asked.

“I never uh, I never got tested to see if I’m a carrier.” Tommy couldn't take his eyes off the box of pregnancy tests.

“You’re joking right?” Lucy sounded shocked or maybe even pissed.

Tommy shook his head.

“How could you be so irresponsible?” Lucy questioned. “You- I can’t believe you never got tested. I can understand not getting tested as a kid with your dad being the way he is but Tommy, you’re- you sleep with men! How could you not get tested?”

Tommy spoke with a monotone voice, head clearly elsewhere. “Parents never bothered. Then I was in denial about being gay and thought I could make myself fall in love with a woman. Then it didn’t matter because I was never serious enough to ditch condoms. Then it didn’t matter when I was serious enough to ditch condoms because I was almost exclusively the top and I was too old. The thought never even crossed my mind in all the time I was with Evan.”

“Oh my god Tommy.” Lucy mumbled.

“I know.” Tommy swallowed thickly. “I guess I have to take one of these now, huh?”

“I’d recommend all three, actually.” Lucy told him. “These things aren’t the most reliable, always a chance of false negatives or positives, so it’s best to take more than one test but if you take two and get two different results then you won’t feel any better or worse than you did before taking them, until you take another. So three at once.”

“Sounds like you know from experience.” Tommy looked up at Lucy.

“I’m a woman who does not exclusively sleep with other women.” Lucy shrugged.

Lucy left the bathroom so Tommy could take the tests, and as soon as he was finished he set them on the counter, opened the door for Lucy, started a timer, and sat back down on the floor again, not confident that he wasn’t going to throw up again at any moment.

Lucy came in and sat next to Tommy on the floor. Just by looking at him she could tell he wasn’t in the mood to talk and for the time being she knew everything she needed to know. Tommy hadn’t even thought about the possibility of this so Lucy was certain that Tommy had no idea what he’d want to do about it- if Tommy was pregnant it was undoubtedly Evan’s, and Tommy was scared and heartbroken right now. Instead of talking Lucy just took his hand and held onto it.

Three minutes felt like an eternity, and if it wasn’t for Lucy holding onto Tommy’s hand, he was sure he would’ve completely lost his grip on reality. He distantly heard the timer on his phone going off, followed by Lucy giving his hand a squeeze. Tommy stopped the timer. He couldn’t look at the tests. He couldn’t move. “Can you look?” He rasped.

“Of course.” Lucy said gently. She stood, not letting go of Tommy’s hand and looked at the tests on the counter. There were two visual tests and one digital test with a weeks along indicator.

The visual tests both showed plus signs, meaning the tests were positive.

The digital test read ‘Pregnant 3+’, meaning three or more weeks along.

“Luce?” Tommy’s grip on her hand tightened.

“Positive.” Lucy told him.

“All of them?” Tommy wondered.

“All three.” Lucy nodded.

Tommy nodded slowly. “Okay.” He whispered as tears stung his eyes and quickly began to fall.

Lucy squeezed Tommy’s hand and returned to her spot on the floor next to him.

Tommy pulled his knees to his chest, rested the arm that wasn’t holding Lucy’s hand on his knees, put his head down, and sobbed for so many reasons it felt like there wasn’t even a reason to be crying at all.

[celandeline]

Hiiii bestie, can we get an angry Carl x reader, leading to smut

Yes we can!

Make It Up To You

Carl Grimes X Reader (SMUT), oneshot

“What the hell were you thinking?” 

You’ve never seen Carl this mad before. Sure, you’ve seen him get mad - pissed off, sulky, more snappy than usual - but you’ve never seen this. This is something else. This has his eye brimming with rage, and an ugly curl to his lips, like he’s getting ready to spit venom. 

“Anyone would have done the same!” You shoot back, brows furrowed. You don’t really understand why he’s mad at you. Going back into the department store after a bunch of walkers broke in wasn’t the smartest thing you could have done, sure, but you weren’t just going to leave Tara behind. Not when she’s saved your ass before. And you’re fine - a little scratched up from climbing through that broken window, but that's it - no bites, nothing serious. 

“It was stupid, and risky, and you could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Carl spits. 

Now you’re starting to get mad too - you’re tired, you haven’t really even gotten a chance to sit down since you and the rest of your run group got back, and now Carl’s in your face, almost shouting at you. “What happened to ‘we don’t leave anyone behind’?” You shoot back. “You’re saying I should have just left her there?”

“No! I’m just saying, instead of running in by yourself, you could have gone back in with the rest of the group. You know it’s stupid to go anywhere on your own, you could have at least asked someone to watch your back, or draw some of them away or something.” He says. 

“Sorry - there wasn’t a whole lot of time to draw up a plan before she would’ve gotten eaten.” You snark back at him. “And, in case you haven’t noticed,” You gesture down to the rest of yourself. “I’m perfectly fine. I can handle myself.”

“Couldn’t handle asking for backup, apparently.” He says, icy blue gaze boring into you. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You ask. “It’s fine - I’m fine, Tara’s fine, everyone got back safe. Yes, I could have died, I know, I don’t need you lecturing me about the risks-”

“Maybe you do, ‘cause it seems like you forgot-” He cuts you off. 

“Fuck off.” You spit, turning around to head back to your house. You don’t need this right now - you just got back from risking your ass to get supplies for the town, and yeah, there were a couple really close calls when you went back in to save Tara. All you wanted to do was go home, take a shower, get a fresh change of clothes. But instead, you got an angry Carl Grimes trying to lecture you about shit you already know. You don’t even know why he cares so much - sure, you’re friends, but the way he was so angry-

“Where are you going?”

You roll your eyes at the sound of him following you, and don’t bother to turn around to look at him. “Home.”

He falls into step beside you, still glaring at you from under the rim of his hat. “You can’t just walk away in the middle of a conversation-”

“Didn’t feel like a conversation to me.” You interrupt him. “Felt like you were just shouting at me about how stupid I am.” 

“I didn’t-” He starts. “That’s not- I wasn’t trying to say that you’re dumb-”

“Well, you did. Quite a few times, actually.” You cut him off, heading up the steps to your porch. You turn around to face him once you get to the door. “Look, Carl, I’m really not in the mood to keep doing this right now-”

“I don’t think you’re dumb.” He says, the anger in his voice turning into urgency. “And I’m not trying to say that you’re weak or can’t handle yourself, or that you shouldn’t have gone back to save Tara, but it was risky. Too risky, and it didn’t have to be, and if it had gone bad, I don’t-” His voice cracks, and he stops himself. 

You wait for a moment for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, you roll your eyes. “Careful,” You snark. “It almost sounded like you were going to say something nice about me. If you’re done, I’m gonna go shower-”

His lips are on yours before you can really realize what’s happening, and on instinct you pull away. “Carl.” You say, brow furrowed as you look him in the eye, searching for… something, to explain what the fuck is going on. 

“If you died, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He says, lips only an inch away from yours. All the anger in him has turned into pleading, his eyes wide, searching your gaze the same as you search his. 

“So, what, you shout at me the moment I get home?” You ask. 

“I’m sorry.” He says. “Really. I just- I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. Please.”

-

Most of the time, you find the extravagance of the houses in Alexandria a little annoying. It only serves as a reminder to before, how your mom used to cut out pictures of places like this to scrapbook into her future plans journal. It only serves as a reminder to how much your dad would grumble about ‘rich people shit’ when he got home from the construction site. 

Now though, you find yourself a little grateful for the heated flooring in the ensuite master bathroom, and the spacious glass shower. The glass is almost completely covered with steam from the hot water cascading out of the showerhead, and you can only see the faintest reflection of yourself, back against the tile as Carl fucks you.  

He’s propped up above you, watching you reverently as his hair drips water onto your cheeks. You keep running your hands through the wet strands, trailing your fingernails across the nape of his neck to make him shiver, despite the heat of the shower. 

“Fuck.” He gasps, dropping down to press his chest against yours and tuck his head into the crook of your neck. 

“Mmm.” You return, taking the opportunity to mouth at the side of his neck, gently sinking your teeth into the skin there. He moans again, and his hips stutter against yours, briefly losing his rhythm before regaining it. You trail your lips upward to bite at the lobe of his ear, and grin when he falters again. 

“Stop doing that.” He pants, pulling his head out of the crook of your neck to look down at you again. 

“Why?” You ask, winding your arms around his shoulders to tug him down for a quick kiss. “I can tell you like it-”

“I’m supposed to be the one - mm, fuck - making it up to you, not the other way around.” He says. 

“You already picked - ah - all of the walker guts out of my hair, I think your debt is paid.”

He shakes his head, little droplets of water flying out of his hair. “Not until I make you cum.”

He throws himself back into fucking you with his full focus, burying his head back into the crook of your neck to mouth at your collarbones, panting heavy against your skin. You let your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the ride. It’s good - surprisingly. He’s done this before, you think - Enid, probably - enough times to know what works and what doesn’t, and if he keeps going at the rate he is, he might actually get you to finish without you having to help him along. 

“You’re so pretty.” He says, breathy against your skin. 

You open your eyes again, and run a hand up his spine, causing him to arch into you. “You should’ve just - fuck,” You gasp at a particularly hard thrust. “Told me you liked me.”

“Probably.” He agrees. “Didn’t - mm - want you to say no though.”

“I think it’s pretty obvious I wouldn’t have.” You breathe, winding a hand into his hair again, holding him against you as the coil in your stomach tightens. 

“How was I supposed to, ah, know?” He asks, lifting his head out of your neck.

“Could’ve asked-” You tip your head back against the tile as you feel yourself nearing the edge. “Fuck, Carl-”

He groans, low in the base of his throat, and speeds up his thrusts, snapping his hips against yours. “Please,” He moans. “Please, please-”

You sigh as you cum, and pull him down against you. You’re more relaxed than you’ve ever been as you come down, between the sex and the heat of the shower around you. Carl doesn’t take too long to follow, letting out a few more hiccuping moans before he pulls out, shooting his cum onto the floor of the shower. You watch it get carried away down the drain as you catch your breath. 

Carl plops himself down on the floor of the shower next to you with a satisfied smile. “Good?”

“Very.” You agree, pulling yourself up from where you were sprawled on the floor.

A moment passes between you, the only sound is that of the shower water hitting the tile, and you take a minute to just look at him, taking in just how pretty he is. 

“Sorry again.” He says, breaking the silence. “For yelling at you. And, um, not telling you that I liked you.”

“S’okay.” You say, because it is. “We got there, eventually.”

He laughs a little. “Yeah.”

You grin at him. “We’re going to have to clean off again.”

“That’s alright with me.” He says, returning your smile.

[bloatedandalone04]

Chasing Cars

➪the one where bradley risks his life to prove a point to mav, and you call him out on it as soon as he gets back to base, then later at home.

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, swearing, arguing, mentions of death, mentions of crashing, both you and bradley are aviators, mentions of bradley being willing to crash just to get back at mav, family issues ig

Word Count: 3.4k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | New theme bc I hate looking for pictures that fit

“What the hell was that?” You asked as soon as Bradley walked back to base from the tarmac.

“Nothing,” he muttered as he walked past you, probably wanting to go to the locker room and forget about what he just did. What he just risked.  

But you weren’t having it. “Hey,” you quickly caught up to him and grabbed his arm. “Talk to me.”

Bradley stopped walking abruptly and turned to you. “What?” 

Your brows furrowed and you took a protective step back, not used to hearing him sound so cold and hostile towards you. You knew he would never do anything to hurt you, so the step back wasn’t because of that - it was more so to give him the space he clearly needs right now.

“Huh?” He grunted as he stepped into your personal space again at your lack of response. “What?”

You huff and cross your arms over your flight suit that matched his, not backing down this time like you normally would to keep the peace. He did something reckless, and there was no way you were going to let him think that what he did with Mav in the air was okay. “You could’ve died,” you say, eerily calm as you stared up at him. 

Bradley glared at you, clearly not liking the confrontation he’s found himself stuck in. “Spare me the lecture, baby, alright? I’ve been doing this for years, I know what I’m doing when I’m in the air,” he placed his hands on his hips, his tone still as stubborn as ever. “I know how to handle myself and pull myself back.”

“I know you do, Bradley,” you trailed off, feeling your words beginning to get caught in your throat. Less than ten minutes ago you were holding onto Bob’s shoulder tightly as you heard and watched Bradley and Pete nearly plummet to the ground, and the adrenaline was quickly wearing off and being replaced with fear and anguish. “But flying angry is not the smartest thing you can do.”

You watched as a flicker of realization flashed in his eyes, your use of his real name rather than a cute pet name you usually call him by letting him know that you were completely serious right now. “Not the smartest thing I could do? Is that your nice way of calling me stupid?”

“I’m not calling you stupid,” you correct him, looking at him with a sense of pleading in your eyes. “What you did was stupid.”

Bradley crossed his arms, “Is that supposed to make me less pissed off?”

“I’m not trying to piss you off,” you say tiredly, dropping your arms back to your sides. “I’m worried about you.”

A small scoff leaves his lips as he looks around the tarmac that was clearing out as the minutes went by. “Worried? It’s my job to fly jets,” he muttered. “Things like this can happen every time I go up there.”

You shake your head. “But it’s not your job to pull stunts like the one you did today,”

The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over his stupidly pretty features, and if you weren’t so riled up right now, you would’ve definitely made a comment on it. “It wasn’t a stunt,” he mumbled. “You need to lighten up, I’m fine.”

Your eyes well up with tears and you quickly look down at the concrete of the tarmac. “You nearly crashed,” 

Bradley huffed, looking around as if any of the few aviators left could save him from this situation. “But I landed safely,” 

“But you almost didn’t!” You finally break, looking up at him through blurred vision. You could see his hard gaze soften and his brows drop a bit as he kept his eyes locked on yours. “You almost died.”

He sighed, guilt written all over his face as he moved closer to you. “I know,” he finally admitted, reaching out to place his hand on your hip. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

You press your lips together as you give him a look that told him all he needed to know without you actually saying it. 

Bradley wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you against his chest, his rough flight suit against your own making it not the most comfortable embrace you’ve shared with him. “I’m okay,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. Your usually neat bun is messy from the way you tugged on it earlier from the panic you felt, and you were sure Bob’s shoulder will have a bruise on it. “I promise.”

“Are you?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you pressed your face against his chest. 

He paused as if he was trying to find the right words to say that would give you comfort. “I am,” he confirmed, stroking the side of your neck with his thumb. “I just get so pissed off around Mav sometimes. That’s not an excuse, though.”

You shake your head and pull away to look up at him, finding comfort in the way he softly wiped your tears away with his thumb. “Let me ask you something,”

“Okay,” he sounded a bit unsure as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Anything.” 

You brace your hands on his shoulders as you ask, “If I pulled something like you did today...If I almost died because I wanted to prove something, how would that make you feel?”

Bradley’s eyes darkened a bit and his brows furrowed further as he took in your words. “I’d be really fucking mad at you,” he answered and your frown softened as you watched the way he processed your question further. “I’d be pissed that you risked your life for no reason.”

You give him a half shrug and a forced smile. “That’s exactly how you made me feel today,” 

Bradley sighed and his shoulders visibly dropped as guilt spread across his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, stroking your jaw with his thumbs. “I know I need to be more careful, and you’re right. It was stupid to let my ego take over. I’m sorry.”

Your lip trembled a bit and you looked down at his boots, the tears finally spilling over. “You can’t do things like that to me,” your voice broke as you tighten your grasp on his suit. 

He gently lifts your head and looks you right in the eyes, and you could see the adoration and guilt swimming in his. “I know, I’m sorry,” he said again, much quieter this time. “I promise it will never happen again.” Bradley leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and you could feel the way your tears continued to fall on both yours and his face now. 

You kiss him back and practically melt into him, the anger and frustration slipping away as the need to have him close takes over. 

Bradley holds you tight, his hands grabbing hold of your waist as he pressed you impossibly close to him. “I love you so much,” he whispered when he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve never done what I did. It was selfish and reckless, and I promise I’ll do better.” 

You nod and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “You need to…because you scared me today,”

He nods. “I know, and I will, I promise, baby,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “I love you.”

Pulling away slightly, your tears had stopped but your face was still damp. “I love you,” 

Bradley gave you a smile before stepping away and gesturing to his bag. “I’m going to go put this away, then I’m taking you home,” 

“Okay,” You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest as you wiped at your eyes. “I’ll be in the parking lot.”

He nodded and took his keys out of his bag, handing them to you. “I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he promised and you smiled before turning away from him and making your way to the parking lot. 

-

Words couldn’t describe how angry Bradley was at himself. 

Now that the high of being in the air and going head to head with Mav had worn off, he could clearly see why you were so upset and mad at him. He hadn’t thought about anyone or anything as he forced himself to drop closer and closer to the ground until Maverick was left with no choice but to pull up first. 

Thinking about it now, Bradley was too into his own head at the time, he was sure that there was no way he was going to be the one to do that, and that would’ve ended in his death. He would’ve left his best friend behind, his mutilated body, Mav, you. 

When you asked him how he would feel if you had gone and done something like that, he could physically feel his heart shift in his chest at the thought of losing you in that way. He’d be more than mad at you, he’d be on the verge of never letting you out of his sight again. You are both aviators, you both knew the risks of flying and missions. Why had he put himself in that situation during training? When it really didn’t even matter?

He couldn’t imagine his life without you, and the thought of burning in and leaving you behind was one he hated to think about. The thought of you leaving his life in that way? He was almost prepared to beg you to quit right then and there. 

But you loved your job, like he loved his, and the risks that came with it were high enough as it is. He didn’t need to add to that list. 

He shoved his flight bag and helmet into his locker before leaving the base without saying another word to anyone else. He knew Nat would have her go at him tomorrow when he returned for another day of training, and he would let her. Because he knew he fucked up. He knew he was selfish. 

Bradley walked through the doors and quickened his pace when he saw you leaning against the passenger side door of the Bronco. “Hey,” he greeted, despite seeing you less than five minutes ago. “Why aren’t you in yet?”

You shrugged with your arms crossed, and he knew you were still upset, even if you were trying your best to hide it. “I just needed to be on solid ground for a little longer,”

In the midst of all that happened, he forgot that you were also an option to be picked to fly the upcoming mission. You also had gone up against Mav today, and you took your loss maturely, unlike how Bradley did. You were taking it seriously, because you needed to, and so did he. 

Bradley felt more guilt creep into his body as he reached out and ran his knuckles along your jaw. “I’m sorry,” he said for the sixth time, and he was sure he would keep saying it for as long as he needed to. 

Because you are the one. You’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with, in the exact way he had been spending the last three years. 

You give him a small but beautiful smile as you lean into his touch. “I know,” 

Bradley reached around you to open the passenger side door, and your smile grew as you climbed in. He braced his hand on the top of the door as he leaned in and pressed a firm kiss to your cheek, watching as you tried to fight off a grin when he pulled away. “I’ll make it up to you,”

You smiled at him and he closed the door before rounding the front of the Bronco and getting in on the driver’s side, taking the keys from you when you held them out to him. “You don’t have to,” you tell him quietly as he puts the key into the ignition. “I already forgave you.”

Bradley grinned over at you and took your hand in his as he began the drive that would take him back to the house he’s shared with you for the last two years. “You know, I don’t know what I did to ever deserve you. I don’t know how I got so lucky,” he rasped, lacing his fingers with you. “You’re so smart and strong and so fucking gorgeous, every other woman in the world doesn’t stand a chance.”

He glanced over and watched as a blush took over your face and you slumped back in your seat. “Quit trying to make it up to me,” you mumbled and he laughed. “I’m the lucky one. I love everything about you. You’re my entire world….which is why I can’t lose you.”

He knew what you meant; you couldn’t lose him like that - in a way that is so easily preventable. You were well aware of the fact that you could lose each other on missions and deployments, so you both tried to not increase those chances during your work days. 

Bradley gripped your hand tightly as he looked over at you, his expression one of regret at making you so upset today. “You won’t,” he said, though you both knew he couldn’t promise that. Neither of you could. “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.” 

You lean against the seat and gaze at him in a way that has him driving a little faster to get home quicker. “I love you,” 

He raises your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “I love you, too,”

When he pulled into the driveway as the sky was getting darker, he kept his hand in yours as he looked over at you. He could tell that you were still shaken up but a lot calmer than before, so he traced random shapes onto the back of your hand as you sat in silence. 

“Do you wanna head inside now?” He asked after a while and you shook your head, lifting your joined hands and pressing the back of his against your cheek. 

“No, I don’t want to let go of you right now,” you answered and he felt his heart swoon in his chest. 

Bradley smiled over at you and unbuckled his seatbelt, shifting so his seat was pushed back a bit. You understood what he was doing without him even telling you as you unbuckled your own seatbelt and crawled over the center console and into his lap. 

His hands settle on your waist as you press your body against his, a content hum slipping past your lips. “Is this better?” He teased, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he held you closer to him. Truthfully, he wasn’t any better than you; he needed to hold you like this as much as you needed to be held. 

“A little,” you hummed, nuzzling your nose against the side of his neck where his scars are. “I just need to be close to you right now.”

Bradley pressed countless kisses to your face and jaw as you settled against him. “I need it, too,” he confessed, his words muffled against your skin. 

He loved holding you like this and having you in his arms. He loved you; how could he possibly risk losing it just to get back at his dad’s best friend?

You wordlessly lift your head and cling onto the front of his flight suit, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you give a slow roll of your hips. 

Bradley bit back a moan as his hold on your waist tightened a bit, his eyes widening. “Baby-”

“How close do you need to be?” You asked in a sultry voice that had him growing hard almost instantly. 

He lifted his head from where it ended up against your shoulder and looked at you, seeing how your eyes shifted from longing to a more intense emotion. “As close as possible,” he managed to say in a deep voice before pressing his lips to yours. 

You kiss him back immediately, moaning against his lips as you slowly begin grinding against him. “Baby,” you echoed his affectionate pet name as you deepened the kiss. Bradley let out a breathless groan when he pulled away and buried his face against the side of your neck as you rode his lap in the driveway. “Do you like this?” You asked, knowing damn well that he does. He was still reeling from what happened today, so it didn’t take much for him to get hard for you, and it didn’t take much for him to be a whining mess because of you. 

“God, yes,” he groaned, the sound coming from the back of his throat, a deep growl. 

“Do you want me to keep doing this?” You continued with your questions, and he knew exactly where you were taking this. 

But he would always willingly give in to you. “Yes,” he nods, holding your hips tighter as you move on top of him. “Please, don’t stop…please.”

You smiled at the way you had easily made him a begging mess for you, your lips connecting with his in a surprisingly sweet kiss. “Then promise me that you will never be reckless like you were today ever again,” and there it was, the place he knew you were getting to the second you lifted your head and gave him that look. 

Bradley huffed out groans as you leaned in and kissed all up his neck, nipping at certain places as you went. “I promise, I won’t be reckless again,” he said against the skin below your ear, his hands sliding up your back as you shifted on his lap. 

“Good,” you praised and he thrusted up against you without being able to stop himself. 

He was sure his fingers were leaving bruises on the skin of your waist as he helped guide the roll of your hips. “God, you feel so good, baby,” he rasped against the smooth skin of your neck, his breathing picking up with each passing second. 

“Are you close?” You asked, a hint of teasing in your voice, but the desperation and need easily overpowered it. 

Bradley nodded quickly, actually whimpering as you ground your hips against his. “I’m so close,” he whispered, his voice low and deep and desperate for you. “You take such good care of me, baby.”

You smile and kiss him, trailing your hands through his hair and tugging on it. 

He moaned loudly, feeling his body begin to tense up at your touch.  Each roll of your hips was met with a thrust of his as he met you halfway, trying to get as close to you as he could. “Please,” he said against your lips. “Oh, fuck, please.”

You whined into his mouth, pulling away to softly demand, “Come for me, baby,”

Bradley’s head tilted back as his body stilled, his grip on you impossibly tight as he pulled your body close to his. “Fuck,” he grunted as his body shuddered slightly from the feeling of his high ripping through him. 

You tug on his hair before smoothing it out, pressing a loving kiss to his temple afterwards. “Did that feel good?” 

There was another question you knew the answer to already, but he’d never not give you it anyway. “Yeah,” he breathed out, dropping his head to look back at you. “So good.”

You firmly take his chin in your thumb and index finger. “Never scare me like how you did today, or I swear you’ll never see me again,” you said, only half serious as you brush your nose against his. 

Bradley quickly shakes his head, lifting his hands to tuck your messy strands of hair behind your ears. “I won’t, I’m sorry, I promise I won’t,” he rambled, the high he felt from you being better than anything else. “I’m sorry.” He repeats and pulls you into his arms again as he tries to regain control of his breathing. 

“Okay,” you said quietly, kissing him softly. 

“I love you,” he whispered, unable to stop the smile from forming on his lips because, at the end of the day, he had you to keep him grounded - even when he fucked up sometimes. 

You give him a final kiss before returning his smile. “I love you, too,”

[nothing-impt]

(I lost my mind thinking about how the Fried Chicken Au came about and wrote a crack fic ft. Flying snakes. Also I am terrible at writing but I couldn't help myself)

---- “Ah, darling! There you are, as much as I love staring into your eyes, where is your blindfold?”  Hermes chirped, greeting the prophet as he sat next to him near the Lethe. Tiresias scoffed, “Oedipus came by today and pissed on all of them. I sent them to the wash.” “All of them?” “Every single one. Is everything alright? I was told you needed to meet me rather urgently.” He paused. “Is it about Odysseus? Did something happen to him?” Hermes cleared his throat. “No. My lovely great-grandson’s doing fine! He should be heading home pretty soon!” “So what’s the issue?” “...” “Hermes?” “Uh.. maybe you should just feel me to find out.” “Hermes, I am not falling for your tricks to get me to grope you.” “No, no! I’m being serious! Just trust me.” Tiresias leaned over and reached for where Hermes was supposed to be and his fingers brushed air. He scowled “There’s nothing there. I told you, no more tricks.” “You’re almost there! Just move your hands down a little!” “You better not be lying-” His fingers brushed against feathers. “Am I touching your shoes?” Hermes chuckled nervously “No?” The prophet pulled back “What exactly am I touching?” “Uh.. I’m kind of a dove now?” “Please tell me you’re joking.” Tiresias deadpanned. “I wish I was! One moment I was delivering messages and the next- boom! I was a bird! Here, touch me again!” A nearby soul wolf whistled and Tiresias hushed him, face burning  “Please, don’t say it like that!” he bent down and stroked dove Hermes, who crooned happily. “Maybe I should bring you to Lord Hades. He might have an answer.” Dove Hermes (Dovemes?) squawked out a laugh and ruffled his feathers. “I doubt it, all the Olympians have been affected. Dad’s currently an eagle, Polly’s a crow and Arty’s a quail. Don’t get me started on Uncle P, he’s a blue seagull! But Dio’s a little scary…” “What bird did Lord Dionysus turn into? A hawk?” “Worse. He turned into this purple flamingo-looking sculpture. He doesn’t move. Just stares. He kept asking for a drink though. Dad told the nymphs to dunk him in a bowl of wine so we all didn’t have to look at him. Aphrodite was super creeped out. She’s a swan, by the way.” Tiresias shuddered, “A curse must have been afflicted for Olympians to turn this way. Especially Lord Dionysus, to be deprived of movement.” Dovemes crooned in agreement as Tiresias continued to pet his feathers. “Anyway, it’s highly likely that Uncle Hades is a bird too! Look, he’s here now- Oh. nice eyes Uncle H!” Tiresias reached over to grab his staff and stood to greet the ruler of the Underworld. “Lord Hades.” “Greetings, Tiresias. Nephew, I see you have told the prophet about our predicament?” Dovemes lets out a chirp, “Yup! Wow, Uncle, I’m really digging the dazed look you’re going for- ow!” Tiresias prodded Hermes with his staff once more. “He may be your uncle, but don’t forget who you’re talking to. May I ask what bird you are Lord Hades?”

The sound of the ruffling feathers was heard, “I am a Potoo. Though I suppose we are centuries before its kind is made known to Greece. Excuse me, while I go find my wife to explain why her husband is currently a bird from  unknown origins.” With a squawk and a beat of wings, Hades left. Dovemes sighed, “Well, I better get going.” Tiresias raised a brow, “What? But you’re still stuck as a bird!” “Dad just sent out a message, he wants all of us to gather in Olympus to figure this out. I won’t visit for a while, but you can have this!”

Tiresias felt a small-clawed foot slip a feather into his palm. "Wait. Hang on-"

“I’ll see you around, darling!” And Dovemes flew off.

Tiresias sighed. What in Zeus’ name is going on?

[rosemariiaa]

~Lines We Drew~

part: 2

pairing- Paige x Azzi

a/n: I was gonna post this tomorrow but today was a good day!

warning: language

Enjoy!!!

Azzi’s POV:

My first few days at UConn have been a whirlwind. Classes are intense but manageable, and my teammates have been great—well, most of them. Paige is a whole different story. She’s made it clear she doesn’t like me, though I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s because of our past or something else I just don’t know of. Whatever it is, she’s not making things any easier.

Practice has been tough, and Paige seems to find every opportunity to make it hell. Most of the time the rest of the team just looks at her like she’s crazy because, honestly, I don’t know what I’ve done to her that bad to be treated like this, but I hope she knows she’s not just going to push me around like a dog.

This morning, we were running drills, and Coach decided to pit me against Paige. Of course, she couldn’t resist making some remark about my shooting form, which is actually perfect by the way. “Nice shot, Fudd, maybe next time try aiming for the basket.” Paige snickered.

I rolled my eyes and shot back, “At least I can make a shot without spraining my ankle.” Her eyes narrowed, and I could see the surprise flicker across her face before she masked it with a scowl. We kept bickering throughout the drill, and eventually, Coach had enough.

“Bueckers! Fudd! Locker room, now!” Geno shouted.

We both hesitated, but the glare he sent us had us moving. The walk to the locker room was tense, and the silence that followed once we got there was even worse. I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me, and it was only a matter of time before one of us snapped.

“What the hell is your problem?” I finally demanded, turning to face her. “My problem? You’re the one acting like you own the place,” Paige shot back, her tone icy.

“Maybe because I’ve actually earned my spot here.” I said throwing my hands in the air. “Yeah, because everyone just loves the shiny new recruit,” Paige sneered, crossing her arms. “But they don’t know you like I do.”

“Oh really , and what exactly do you think you know about me, Bueckers?”

“I know you’re all talk. You act nice, but deep down, you’re just as cutthroat as the rest of us. You’re not fooling anyone.”

The accusation stung more than I expected. I opened my mouth to retaliate, but before I could, the door creaked open, and Laila, a girl i met my first day at Uconn slipped in, casting a worried glance between us. “Hey, Az, you okay?” she asked, her voice soft.

I nodded, but I couldn’t help noticing the way Paige’s jaw tightened as Laila approached me. Why did she care? It’s not like we were friends or anything.

Paige’s glare was sharp, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was angry at me or at Laila. But that didn’t make sense, I pushed the thought aside, focusing on Laila as she pulled me aside to talk quietly. Even though we were trying to be discreet, I could still feel Paige’s gaze burning into us.

“I’m fine, just… annoyed,” I muttered to Laila, though I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince her or myself. Laila gave me a reassuring smile and squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t let her get to you. You belong here just as much as she does babe, you know that.”

“Thanks Lai,” I replied, though my mind was still partially focused on the fact that Paige had been glaring at us the entire time. What was her deal?

When Laila finally left, Paige and I were alone again, but the fire in her eyes had dimmed, replaced by something unreadable. The silence stretched on until it became unbearable, and finally, she stood up, brushing past me without a word.

I watched her leave, trying to figure out what just happened. Why did she look so pissed when Laila showed up? Did she think I was going to talk about her? Or maybe… No. I shook my head, dismissing the thought. Paige Bueckers couldn’t possibly care about me.

———-

Paige’s POV:

I never expected Azzi Fudd to get under my skin like this. I knew she was coming to UConn, but I wasn’t excited about it. Everyone was hyped up about her for god knows whatever , acting like she was going to be the savior of the team. I couldn’t stand it. I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am, and now, here comes Miss Perfect, just strolling in like she owns the place.

But that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that everyone seems to love her. Even my own friends, who should be on my side, are falling all over themselves to help her move in, introduce her to everyone, and make her feel at home. What about me? I thought bitterly. Where’s all this support when I need it?

The accusation hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I thought she might actually cry. But then the door creaked open, and Laila walked in, instantly killing whatever momentum our fight had.

“Hey, Azzi, you okay?” Laila asked softly. Azzi nodded, but my whole body tensed up as Laila walked over to her. I didn’t know why, but something about seeing Laila with Azzi made my blood boil. Laila had a long kind of slim body, a little similar to mine, but of course I had the muscles. She had this long blonde hair dripping down her back..also similar to me. I felt this unfamiliar twist in my chest, like jealousy, but that couldn’t be it. Could it? No.

I watched as Laila reached out and touched Azzi’s arm, and I had to fight the urge to get up and push her away. What was wrong with me? This wasn’t my business. I didn’t care who Azzi talked to, or at least I shouldn’t care. But as I watched them whisper to each other, something ugly and possessive churned in my gut.

I turned away, trying to focus on anything else. The lockers. The floor. My shoes. Anything but the sight of Laila comforting Azzi. I didn’t care, I reminded myself. I didn’t care at all. But when I looked back, and saw Azzi smile at something Laila said, it felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. My fists clenched involuntarily. I hated this feeling. I hated that she could get under my skin like this.

When Laila finally left, the tension in the room was suffocating. I wanted to say something, to demand to know why Azzi even needed Laila to comfort her, but what right did I have? We weren’t friends. Hell, I didn’t even like her. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to scream at her, to demand answers to questions I didn’t even understand.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and stormed out of the locker room without another word, leaving Azzi behind. I needed to clear my head, to figure out why seeing her with Laila had set me off like that. This didn’t make any sense. I couldn’t possibly be jealous. Not of Azzi. Not over something as stupid as Laila talking to her. Right?

But as I walked away, the twisted feeling in my chest didn’t go away. If anything, it got worse. And I had no idea what to do about it.

———-

Back in my apartment, I tried to focus on my assignments, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the locker room. No matter how hard I tried to push the memories away, Azzi kept creeping back into my mind. Why the hell did I care so much? I asked myself this knowing why i did care. But It wasn’t like we were friends. We weren’t even close like that anymore. But everything about her now kept nagging at me.

I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair in frustration. Studying was pointless. All I could think about was the way she looked at me, the way her voice had risen when she confronted me. And that damn moment with Laila. Why did it bother me so much to see them together?

My phone buzzed on the desk, snapping me out of my thoughts. Nika had texted the group chat, suggesting we all head over to Aubrey’s apartment for a study session and hangout. I almost ignored it, but I figured it was better than sitting here, stewing in my own confusion.

When I arrived at Aubrey’s, the place was already full with energy, KK and Ice bickering, paying no attention to the work we’re actually supposed to be doing. Everyone else was scattered around the living room with their laptops and notebooks. I found a spot on the couch and tried to settle in, hoping the chatter would drown out my thoughts.

A few minutes later, the door to one of the bedrooms creaked open, and Azzi emerged, looking half-asleep with her curls falling down her shoulders and her eyes half-closed. She was wearing black Nike shorts and a tank top, and as she stretched, revealing a sliver of her toned stomach and that damn silver belly button ring, I couldn’t help but stare. She looked effortlessly beautiful, even with her sleepy face and bed hair. My eyes traced the length of her long, tanned legs, and I had to remind myself to blink.

Everyone greeted her with a chorus of “Hi’s,” but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. I was too busy trying to ignore the way my heart skipped a beat when she rubbed her eyes and yawned.

Azzi must have noticed me staring because she glanced in my direction, her lips curling into a smirk. “Like what you see, Bueckers?” she teased, snapping me out of my thoughts. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I quickly looked away, pretending to be interested in my notes. “Whatever,” I muttered, but my mind was racing. What the hell was wrong with me? I shouldn’t be thinking about her like that, and I definitely shouldn’t be blushing because of some stupid comment.

Azzi disappeared back into her room to change, and I tried to refocus on my work, but when she came back out, looking more awake and dressed in sweats, I found myself sneaking glances at her again. This was getting ridiculous.

As the study session dragged on, I realized I was completely lost on one of my assignments. Everyone else seemed equally confused doing their own thing, except for Azzi, who was calmly working through her own tasks. I knew I had no choice—I had to ask her for help. But the thought made my stomach twist.

After a few minutes of struggling, I finally caved. “Hey, Azzi,” I called over, trying to keep my voice neutral. “Can you help me with this?” She looked up, surprised, but quickly nodded. “Sure.”

I expected her to just explain it from across the room, but instead, she got up and came to sit next to me. My heart pounded as she settled in beside me, her shoulder brushing against mine. I tried to focus on the work, but her presence was overwhelming. We hadn’t been this close in years. She leaned in a little too close, her hair brushing against my arm, and all I could think about was the scent of vanilla and strawberries that clung to her skin. Get a grip P.

“See, this part here…” Azzi began explaining, her voice calm and patient, but I could barely process her words. All I could focus on was how close she was, the warmth radiating off her body, the way her pink and plump lips moved as she spoke. I almost smiled at the absurdity of the situation. Here I was, supposedly hating this girl, yet I couldn’t stop thinking about how good she smelled or how soft her skin looked. It was infuriating, and I hated myself for it.

I forced myself to concentrate, nodding along as Azzi explained the problem to me. I was determined not to let her see how flustered I was. But the more I tried to focus, the more distracted I became. Her closeness was driving me crazy, and I had no idea why.

Eventually, the study session wrapped up, and everyone started packing up their things to head back to their apartments. I was relieved when Azzi moved away from me to help clean up. I needed space to breathe, to get my head on straight.

As I stood up to leave, I caught a glimpse of Caroline teasing Azzi about how close we’d been sitting earlier. I figured what’s the harm in eavesdropping just a little. Azzi laughed it off, but her response made my heart clench.

“She still hates me, Caroline,” Azzi said with a shrug. “I have no idea why, but it’s whatever.”

No idea?

Caroline chuckled. “You sure about that? I saw the way she was looking at you.”

I quickly turned away, pretending I hadn’t heard anything, but my mind was racing. Azzi thought I hated her..well I guess that’s what it would seem like. I thought rubbing my temples. I wasn’t even sure anymore. All I knew was that something about her being here, being so close to me…was driving me absolutely insane and I needed it to stop.

[casualhedonists]

“slut!” ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

pairing: academy!coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: nsfw (18+), sub! and possibly virgin!coryo, handjobs, edging/orgasm denial, degradation, name calling (reader calls coryo a slut) very mild dacryphilia, also v mild corruption kink, overstimulation, also reader gets coryo to taste his own cum idk what else to call it <3

a/n: thought abt calling coryo a slut and this happened <3 i have nothing else to say for myself

“Slut.”

The word slipped from your lips, smooth like honey.

“What?” His eyes darted to yours. Your hand, nestled in his pants, slowed its movements, and his lips parted in a plea.

“You heard me, Coryo. I said you’re a slut.”

You didn’t miss the ragged breath of air that he exhaled, or the twitch of his cock as you stilled your hand entirely. He whimpered, red faced in shame.

Poor thing. Poor, desperate Coriolanus Snow.

“Who’d have thought? The academy’s brightest star, the golden pupil, putting out on the first date.”

His eyes squeezed closed. You hummed.

“What did we say about that? Eyes on me.”

He obliged.

“This is a date?” He breathed after a beat, brain playing catchup.

“It’s whatever you want it to be, handsome.”

Your hand moved faster as you saw him get more comfortable with the pace; you couldn’t be having that. Not when he’d started to pick up a very vexing little habit of deliberately contradicting any point you made in rhetoric class, glancing over at you with a self-congratulatory grin that had you aching to make him cry.

You'd asked him over to study, which he'd almost fallen for. Led him to your couch, made him believe you'd let him take whatever he wanted, then flipped the tables.

“That feel good? Is it too much?”

“Mm.” Was all you got out of him as you picked the pace up, thumb pushing over the tip.

“So wet for me, Coryo. Like a fucking girl.”

“Don’t-"

“Oh? So you want me to stop? Okay.”

Your hand stilled again, moving your hand as if to take it out of his pants.

“No. What? Don’t… don’t stop. Keep going.”

“You know, nobody’s gonna believe you’re as well-bred as you claim you are with manners like those.”

You'd overheard Highbottom's taunts once. Kept it to yourself, but made the occasional low blow of your own when he pissed you off. His eyes shone in an angry defiance. You stood your ground.

“Please.” He looked at the floor.

“Please what?”

“Please, keep going.”

You smiled.

“Good boy.”

When you spoke the words, he visibly relaxed, but a frown etched across his face when you wrapped your hand back around his cock, but didn’t move it. He looked down, then back at you.

“What?” You blinked innocently.

“You’re not… please. Don’t be fucking mean.” He repeated pathetically.

“I don’t know, Coryo. My hand’s getting a little tired.”

“Because you’ve been edging me for half an hour.” He gritted. You laughed, cruel.

“So dramatic. If you’re gonna be ungrateful like that, then fine. I won’t move a muscle.”

He sighed, ragged and heavy. He didn’t move.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy now. All I’m asking for is a little bit of effort. Fuck my hand, Coryo. You can do that, can’t you?”

His blue eyes bored into yours, but you weren’t falling for his tricks. Your free hand gently turned his chin to you, and you moved in, soft kisses peppering his jaw.

You squeezed the base of his cock a little, enough to make him pull in a sharp breath.

“Move.” you commanded, voice no louder than a whisper, but harsh.

He obliged. Slowly, at first, shame all too clear on his face, but he noticed the look on your face when you glanced down to see his hips rocking up, fucking into your fist under his pants, and lost himself a little more.

He saw the way your legs pressed together sat next to him, hips shifting uncomfortably as he found a rhythm, and lifted his hand to touch your thigh. You batted it away.

“No touching.” you scolded.

“But…” he trailed off, eyes longing.

How cute.

“No buts, either. Are you close?”

He nodded. Shame slowly starting to melt away.

“Good. You can move faster, Coryo. Can you make yourself cum like this?”

He moved faster, and let out a half-laugh, more like a strung-out sigh. As if to say, are you kidding?

“Does that feel good? Use your words, baby.”

You felt him twitch again, wet sounds filling the room as he moved, a cruel satisfaction filling your head.

“Yeah. It feels... fuck.”

“Look at you,” You mused, “Fucking my hand like a desperate slut. You’re this close and I’m not even doing anything.”

This time, when you said the word, he whined. He sounded delirious, and you soaked it up, basked in it. Hungry for more.

He was getting desperate now, needy and careless. Rutting into your hand like a fucking virgin.

You wondered if he was, and it made your torturing him all the sweeter. You let your mind wander, thinking about all the things you could introduce him to. So perfect, so clean cut. You wanted him frayed at the edges, torn at the seams, coming undone for you.

He got loud, whimpers building into cries as you started to move your hand again, tight and mean, brushing over the tip carelessly rough, desperate to see him fall apart. His words were broken and ragged.

“That’s… shit. I think I - can I? Please. I’m-”

He cut himself off, mouth falling open, eyes slipping shut in bliss. You could feel how close he was, hard and heavy in your hand. When his hips gave in, stuttering and tired, you sped up your motions, eyes never leaving his pretty face as he started to crack.

“Cum for me, Coryo. You’ve earned it.”

When he fell, he fell to pieces. You memorised each broken sound he made, every whine and gasp, knowing they’d be replaying in your head for a very long time to come. He came hot and sticky into your palm, and you kept your hand moving until he was trembling from it, until he winced.

You looked back at his face, eyes still shut, and a single tear had slid down his cheek. You pressed a gentle kiss to his open lips, and another to his cheek, tongue dipping out reflexively to trace the tear stain, salty in your mouth but sweet like satisfaction.

He was still catching his breath, and you shifted your hand out of his pants, smirking to yourself as he hissed a little.

You lifted it to his face, your clean hand holding his chin, and the other one bringing two dripping fingers to his perfect, parted lips.

“Now suck.”

a/n: idk WHO to tag since this is my first coryo fic i’ve posted since attention?? and my tag list is just for attention rn? think i need to do a few separate ones, we’ll figure something out. as always feedback keeps my world spinning around. ily 🤍🤍